There is a mental state
I strive to achieve a homeostatic state a humming a lull like those alpha wave tapes they sold in the 60's
I need to hear that in my head all day. Instead of the clanging of my thoughts and the clashing of my
wants versus what I should do need to do and the sad, bright violins from "Sunshine" so melancholy
so consistent that remind me how it is not to have anyone understand
I wanted to put these thoughts down before I actually go about a busy day. They've been roaming around in my head for a little while now.
I want it to be known here, in case I don't get the chance to update my Health Care Proxy or fill out my living will. If something happens to me and my brain dies with no hope of recovery or my chances at living a semi normal life without impairing the ability of others to live theirs OR if my heart fails and there are no real alternatives that will make me live out the rest of my days (because those artificial joints that last for a month... are REALLY EFFIN EXPENSIVE)... then I don't want to stay. If I can't recover to dance in my bedroom to a good song on the radio; or sing at the top of my lungs to my favorite song... or have the ability to use my hands and fingers to create beautiful crafts or give heart felt hugs. If I don't know who anyone is around me... and least of all, don't know who I am... I don't want to be here. I know that's harsh. I know it seems defeatist... But I don't want to 1) burden anyone with having to clean me up or feed me or wipe my ass... I spent quality time as a toddler learning to do all of the above. I intend on being the only one to do that from here on out. 2) I believe that life should be ENJOYED. Yes, I'm a bonafied hedonist. God did NOT give us our senses for them to be ignored. And I KNOW that the Devil didn't give them to us... although they're quite sinful sometimes. But if I can't smell the roses or hear the ocean or sweet music or taste a mango or feel a kitten's fur or the sand between my toes or someone's hands on my skin; if I can't bear witness to a sunrise with my own eyes or note the sky being a full on rainbow at twilight... And if I can't articulate them to anyone... or even hold a recollection of any of it: It's over for me. I am of my senses. And every joyful sense that I experience, I rejoice in God for letting me retain any of it. I'm not of the school where you shouldn't "be of the world". I know what they mean. But God put all this glorious stuff around us for us to experience. Not to deny it... put blinders on and tip toe around the universe without experiencing anything so that we might have a chance to go back to heaven. If my child returns to me as an adult, with the exact sameness as he was when I had him as a child... I'll be disappointed. I need him to go experience and learn and experiment and discover all the wonders the world has to offer. I would imagine... God being my father, he'd want the same for me.
Two different topics there and here's one more, directly related. Growning old graceuflly is wonderful. I relish in my Sorors at chapter meeting who are so vibrant and glowingly beautiful at 80 years old. Sharp as tacks. STILL activists in their community and beautiful families to show for their love of the world. But if I'm a miserable heap of pathology just festering and dying inside AND my attitude is reflecting that... that is also a sign that it's time for me to go. I have Sorors who are going through SERIOUS bouts with cancer. I mean... Mike Tyson style fights with it. Lose their hair. Lose significant amounts of weight. Even their eyes are a little sunken with exhaustion, fear, worry. They STILL come to chapter meeting. They STILL wear their brightest pink & green. They STILL smile when you greet them. And although their hugs may be a little less strong, they still put all their passion into their hugs and express how happy they are to see you and be seen. That verve of life has to be there. It's all I'm made of. If I can't be that way. I just don't want to be.
Problem is... how will I leave in those instances. I told my brother that I hope if I ever get to the point where I am that steaming pile of disease and bad attitude, that I hope there is a Dr. Kevorkian around to help me out of it. He said, "You know, that's still considered suicide." DAMNIT. I can't escape that clause can I ?
Oh well. I applied for a credit card today and got approved. I imagine that's considered suicide too...
