LOVELYDARKDEEP
will you gnaw off your own leg to escape the trap?
- Mar 20, 2024
- 63
I think the permanence of catching the bus is really starting to sink in for me.
There are times when I feel like I won't be able to make it to my planned date, and it seems agonizingly far away. But then it will seem too close for comfort, despite being decently far into the future.
I really do believe that my story will end with me taking my own life - honestly, I think I've known for a long, long time. I can't explain it but I know, deep in my bones, either sooner than expected or later than planned, that I'm fated to this.
I also have the deep feeling that I'm not much longer for this world. I've battled with my health for years now, and it's whittled away at me - I swear, I can feel myself dying. I am so unwell, these days. I really didn't think that I would deteriorate this quickly, but here I am.
And I realized that no matter how your story ends, you're more likely than not to go out afraid, whether that takes the form of a senior with dementia that can't make sense of anything anymore, or the dazed last moments bleeding out in the aftermath of a crash.
Dying isn't fun, and it's unlikely to be peaceful.
And somehow, knowing that makes it a bit easier to bear.
I think a lot of people view suicide as a choice between life and death - you catch the bus, or you live, either or.
But that's not an entirely accurate way to frame things. You forget that the choice to live still entails an end, albeit deferred. You're not immortal, after all.
You will die. And in those last flashes of consciousness, you will likely be afraid of that gaping void awaiting.
It's scary! Death is scary!
Being afraid is literally the most natural reaction to have when you have confront the fact that you are seconds away from that ultimate finality.
It's okay to be scared! It's not something to be ashamed of.
But don't forget that you will have to confront that fear in the end. You can only run so far from that battle before it inevitably catches you regardless.
I think there is a lot of peace to be found in true, soul-deep acceptance of our own mortality. It's helped calm me and keep my footing when my survival instinct rears up and tries to trample over me.
So far, every time that's happened, I've been able to wrestle it into submission. It's a hell of a fight every time - it is the fight for my life, after all, those are some deeply ingrained preservation instincts - but I feel as if I'm getting the knack of getting matter to align with mind, albeit reluctantly.
Turns out that once you realize that the source of survival instinct is rooted deeply within the fear of death, and you meditate on that and acknowledge that fear for what it is, and find acceptance with it as simply part of the process that we'll all go through when we leave this world, it's quite a bit easier to deal with the survival instinct.
I'm beginning to find true peace and acceptance in these twilight months. I think that at the end of this path, my plan to catch the bus will be something that feels so natural and appropriate that it seems a bit foolish to entertain any other fantasies regarding potential endings. I think that it will be just like stepping off a cliff to find out that you could fly all along, and it will be wonderful and terrifying at the same time, which will just make those final moments so indescribable.
It will take courage, but I'm finding that.
There are times when I feel like I won't be able to make it to my planned date, and it seems agonizingly far away. But then it will seem too close for comfort, despite being decently far into the future.
I really do believe that my story will end with me taking my own life - honestly, I think I've known for a long, long time. I can't explain it but I know, deep in my bones, either sooner than expected or later than planned, that I'm fated to this.
I also have the deep feeling that I'm not much longer for this world. I've battled with my health for years now, and it's whittled away at me - I swear, I can feel myself dying. I am so unwell, these days. I really didn't think that I would deteriorate this quickly, but here I am.
And I realized that no matter how your story ends, you're more likely than not to go out afraid, whether that takes the form of a senior with dementia that can't make sense of anything anymore, or the dazed last moments bleeding out in the aftermath of a crash.
Dying isn't fun, and it's unlikely to be peaceful.
And somehow, knowing that makes it a bit easier to bear.
I think a lot of people view suicide as a choice between life and death - you catch the bus, or you live, either or.
But that's not an entirely accurate way to frame things. You forget that the choice to live still entails an end, albeit deferred. You're not immortal, after all.
You will die. And in those last flashes of consciousness, you will likely be afraid of that gaping void awaiting.
It's scary! Death is scary!
Being afraid is literally the most natural reaction to have when you have confront the fact that you are seconds away from that ultimate finality.
It's okay to be scared! It's not something to be ashamed of.
But don't forget that you will have to confront that fear in the end. You can only run so far from that battle before it inevitably catches you regardless.
I think there is a lot of peace to be found in true, soul-deep acceptance of our own mortality. It's helped calm me and keep my footing when my survival instinct rears up and tries to trample over me.
So far, every time that's happened, I've been able to wrestle it into submission. It's a hell of a fight every time - it is the fight for my life, after all, those are some deeply ingrained preservation instincts - but I feel as if I'm getting the knack of getting matter to align with mind, albeit reluctantly.
Turns out that once you realize that the source of survival instinct is rooted deeply within the fear of death, and you meditate on that and acknowledge that fear for what it is, and find acceptance with it as simply part of the process that we'll all go through when we leave this world, it's quite a bit easier to deal with the survival instinct.
I'm beginning to find true peace and acceptance in these twilight months. I think that at the end of this path, my plan to catch the bus will be something that feels so natural and appropriate that it seems a bit foolish to entertain any other fantasies regarding potential endings. I think that it will be just like stepping off a cliff to find out that you could fly all along, and it will be wonderful and terrifying at the same time, which will just make those final moments so indescribable.
It will take courage, but I'm finding that.