Touch of Death

[Phox]

Death. Ah yes, death. Death is important. Death is fascinating. Death is terrifying. And yet would I welcome it?

I died once. I don't recall what it was like. All I remember is passing out and waking up in the hospital. Learned my lesson right quick about those pretty little bottles in the cupboard. Maybe I was too young, maybe I blocked the memories. They told me that they had to resuscitate me and pump my stomach. But I have no idea what happened between the time I went unconscious until the time that I was in the hospital bed. But they told me that I woke up in the ambulance. I seemed incredibly lucid and calm to them. Again, I remember none of that. So what happened?

This experience has done no less than give me a morbid fascination with death. Have I lost loved ones? You bet your boots I have. Did it hurt? Of course it did. Knowing that one must die, and being bereaved are different animals altogether. For my own part, I do not fear death. My own death is not a concern. Perhaps it has to do with a lack of self-esteem. Or a desire to find out what I have forgotten, or whether there was anything to forget. To this day, I have strong suicidal urges that are almost academic in their nature. But what always stops me from acting upon them is the thought of leaving behind mourners. Odd. I don't know why anyone would care about my death, as it is an inevitability. Life is pain, why suffer it? And yet, though life is pain, it is clear that by selfishly trying to avoid this fate for myself, I am heaping more pain upon others. I would rather wander the lands of Nod than cause that sort of suffering among my own loved ones.

Rambling, off topic, nonsensical. Hit the trifecta with this one...

[East Coast Hustle]

...apparently not close enough. My experience is that the life you live becomes more precious if you're in danger of losing it against your will. YMMV, and obviously does. Casual, blithe commentary on the necessity of death and the inevitability of dying seems a luxury for those who aren't face to face with that certainty in real time, or at least to a large enough degree/length of time.

I gotta disagree here. In my experience (YMMV and obviously does), the more times I've found myself in situations where my ultimate survival wasn't a 100% certainty, the more it's become obvious to me that life isn't something to be taken so seriously. We're all gonna die one way or another, and there really is no sense making TOO much of a fuss over it. Nobody's saying you shouldn't remember the people you love who have died or that you shouldn't grieve over them, but don't take it to the point where it interferes with your life which you are still living.

[East Coast Hustle]

Death. Ah yes, death. Death is important. Death is fascinating. Death is terrifying. And yet would I welcome it?

I died once. I don't recall what it was like. All I remember is passing out and waking up in the hospital. Learned my lesson right quick about those pretty little bottles in the cupboard. Maybe I was too young, maybe I blocked the memories. They told me that they had to resuscitate me and pump my stomach. But I have no idea what happened between the time I went unconscious until the time that I was in the hospital bed. But they told me that I woke up in the ambulance. I seemed incredibly lucid and calm to them. Again, I remember none of that. So what happened?

This experience has done no less than give me a morbid fascination with death. Have I lost loved ones? You bet your boots I have. Did it hurt? Of course it did. Knowing that one must die, and being bereaved are different animals altogether. For my own part, I do not fear death. My own death is not a concern. Perhaps it has to do with a lack of self-esteem. Or a desire to find out what I have forgotten, or whether there was anything to forget. To this day, I have strong suicidal urges that are almost academic in their nature. But what always stops me from acting upon them is the thought of leaving behind mourners. Odd. I don't know why anyone would care about my death, as it is an inevitability. Life is pain, why suffer it? And yet, though life is pain, it is clear that by selfishly trying to avoid this fate for myself, I am heaping more pain upon others. I would rather wander the lands of Nod than cause that sort of suffering among my own loved ones.

Rambling, off topic, nonsensical. Hit the trifecta with this one...

your black eyeliner is running.

[P3nT4gR4m]

Someone close to you dying is that feeling of "FUCK I REALLY LIKED THAT PERSON AND NOW I WON'T SEE THEM AGAIN!" What's so hard to understand? The closer you were to the person the harder it hits. When real close family or friends you have leaned on heavily over the years go it's like a punch in the teeth from a sledgehammer. If you don't get it then there's probably some part of your brain wired back to front.

I like to think I'm not really scared of my own death (as long as there's no long, painful buildup) but, let's face it I won't know until it's right there in my face about to happen. One thing I know is I'm not scared of it right now. You can tell because unrelated conversation topics don't make me immediately write whiny, emo rants about death. Go figure

[Doktor Howl]

Am I the only one that really sees death as inevitable (aside from cryogenics  ) and not something to make such a big fucking fuss over?

Right.  Off you go, then.

[tyrannosaurus vex]

Death. Ah yes, death. Death is important. Death is fascinating. Death is terrifying. And yet would I welcome it?

I died once. I don't recall what it was like. All I remember is passing out and waking up in the hospital. Learned my lesson right quick about those pretty little bottles in the cupboard. Maybe I was too young, maybe I blocked the memories. They told me that they had to resuscitate me and pump my stomach. But I have no idea what happened between the time I went unconscious until the time that I was in the hospital bed. But they told me that I woke up in the ambulance. I seemed incredibly lucid and calm to them. Again, I remember none of that. So what happened?

This experience has done no less than give me a morbid fascination with death. Have I lost loved ones? You bet your boots I have. Did it hurt? Of course it did. Knowing that one must die, and being bereaved are different animals altogether. For my own part, I do not fear death. My own death is not a concern. Perhaps it has to do with a lack of self-esteem. Or a desire to find out what I have forgotten, or whether there was anything to forget. To this day, I have strong suicidal urges that are almost academic in their nature. But what always stops me from acting upon them is the thought of leaving behind mourners. Odd. I don't know why anyone would care about my death, as it is an inevitability. Life is pain, why suffer it? And yet, though life is pain, it is clear that by selfishly trying to avoid this fate for myself, I am heaping more pain upon others. I would rather wander the lands of Nod than cause that sort of suffering among my own loved ones.

Rambling, off topic, nonsensical. Hit the trifecta with this one...

There was a time, when I was about 16 or 17 and high on anything that could kill brain cells, that I would agree with this. Since that time, I have experienced death only a handful of times and usually in a tangential way. The one close family member I have known who did expire in an unfortunate bog of alcohol and pumpkin-orange skin, though, I think about every single day. All that shit they say about Jesus watching you so you better make sure you're doing the right thing? Even when I subscribed to it, it was never as powerful as the burning question in my mind about whether this drunken, flawed, self-destructive person I loved more than anything, would approve of my actions.

I agree with you that death is not a big deal, but only as it applies to myself, my own stream of consciousness. I expect by the end of my time (and quite possible before it happens) I will have long since tired of every recycled thought my meager brain can produce. But death isn't about you, you narcissistic fuck. It's about all the people you know, it's about the people you've touched and who have touched you. It's about the fact that our lives are built on the connections we form with one another, and the sense of shock and pain when those connections are severed forever, no matter how prepared you think you are for it.

Death is not a story of how you live a while and then you don't anymore. That shit is for people in solitary confinement, which I hope to god you are someday. Death is, rather, the story of people who lose something more valuable than their own life: the connections that make life meaningful. Without the bonds between you and somebody (hopefully quite a few somebodies) that makes your thoughts worth expressing, life itself might as well be death as far as you are concerned.

[Jenne]

...apparently not close enough. My experience is that the life you live becomes more precious if you're in danger of losing it against your will. YMMV, and obviously does. Casual, blithe commentary on the necessity of death and the inevitability of dying seems a luxury for those who aren't face to face with that certainty in real time, or at least to a large enough degree/length of time.

I gotta disagree here. In my experience (YMMV and obviously does), the more times I've found myself in situations where my ultimate survival wasn't a 100% certainty, the more it's become obvious to me that life isn't something to be taken so seriously. We're all gonna die one way or another, and there really is no sense making TOO much of a fuss over it. Nobody's saying you shouldn't remember the people you love who have died or that you shouldn't grieve over them, but don't take it to the point where it interferes with your life which you are still living.

I wasn't saying that.  But this whole "HAY GUISE WE'RE ALL GONNA DIES SO LETS JUST FORGET THE BAD STUFF AND FOCUS ON WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" or even "I pity those who give a fuck--caring is so...overrated!" is just too too much.  And disingenuous.  I don't know, ECH, how many times you've faced your own mortality, looked it lockjawed and eyes-front, and I don't know in what circumstances.  But I do know my own, and I do know my husband's, too too intimately.  NONE of these caused me to think any less of my own welfare and of those I love.  *shrug*

And to say that it doesn't reverse a lot of things that mattered before that don't matter now is also wrong.  OF COURSE priorities change quite a bit, and OF COURSE what really seems to distill the why's and wherefore's of getting up in the morning may also come up way different in the end.  But to say "Nah, FOGEDABOUDIT!" seems to indicate someone who just doesn't give a fuck.  Period.

And I am not in charity with such folks.  Those are the folks that tend to fuck you over.  Time out of mind.  Without looking back.

Just because you've faced death or don't fear it doesn't mean it's time to say nothing really matters anymore, so why bother giving a shit.  In fact, to me, it was quite the opposite, because then I saw what was truly at stake.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

I'm currently studying the heriditary pattern of death.

The results are a little shocking, to say the least.

[Jenne]

I'm currently studying the heriditary pattern of death.

The results are a little shocking, to say the least.

I'd be interested in your results.  I have longevity in my family, as well as the usual (heart disease, cancer, etc.).  And then there's the odd brain aneurysim that kills folks at 50.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

I'm currently studying the heriditary pattern of death.

The results are a little shocking, to say the least.

I'd be interested in your results.  I have longevity in my family, as well as the usual (heart disease, cancer, etc.).  And then there's the odd brain aneurysim that kills folks at 50.

So far, my studies indicate that if your great-great-great grandparents died, and their kids died, and their kids died, it's almost a certainty that you will die, too.

[Jenne]

I'm currently studying the heriditary pattern of death.

The results are a little shocking, to say the least.

I'd be interested in your results.  I have longevity in my family, as well as the usual (heart disease, cancer, etc.).  And then there's the odd brain aneurysim that kills folks at 50.

So far, my studies indicate that if your great-great-great grandparents died, and their kids died, and their kids died, it's almost a certainty that you will die, too.

Ah.  That must have been some intensive studying, there...

Look, I only bring up the casuality of "wtf is wrong with people who fear death and miss folks who do?" because of the last decade that showed me taking shit for granted is a mistake.  Hopefully most who make it have the chance to regret it.

[Lies]

I'm currently studying the heriditary pattern of death.

The results are a little shocking, to say the least.

I'd be interested in your results.  I have longevity in my family, as well as the usual (heart disease, cancer, etc.).  And then there's the odd brain aneurysim that kills folks at 50.

So far, my studies indicate that if your great-great-great grandparents died, and their kids died, and their kids died, it's almost a certainty that you will die, too.

Not necessarily in that order.

[Lies]

HEY GUYS GUESS WHAT ITS OK I JUST FOUND OUT HOW TO OVER THIS DYING THING:


ITS ALL GONNA WORK OUT NOW!

[Lies]

[Bebek Sincap Ratatosk]

I am conflicted about death. Its surreal for me and always has been. I was raised in a world where death was a temporary thing... IF you died before Armageddon, then you would be resurrected in Paradise. If you didn't die before Armageddon, then you would live forever. It's an entirely absurd view of reality, I can see that now, but it still has an effect on how I perceive death. I don't remember crying when people close to me died, when I was young... they weren't dead, just unavailable until after Armageddon. If you didn't get to see them before they died, if you didn't get closure... it didn't matter because they would be back and you could pick up where you left off.

Twelve years ago I walked away from that religion. In doing so, I separated myself from almost all of the people I knew growing up. Recently, my parents have become more reasonable and I visited them over the weekend. They were discussing people that had been some of my closest friends... and they're dead. The woman that converted my parents to the religion and was like a grandmother since I was born, the guy who got me into computers and HAM radio, the people that took me to my first Broadway show... all dead. People that I spent 23 years assuming they would never die... or at least would be back... are dead, and I don't think its all that likely that they will be back now.

They were talking about the last time they visited my friend Ron, a couple days before he died and I found myself thinking about what I'll say to him when he comes back. The new reality intruded on the old one and said "No, You won't say that... he's not coming back".

Aunts and Uncles that I rarely see, have changed from adults I knew to old people that I've never seen before via their Facebook profiles. Soon, they too will die and I will still be conflicted. It used to be that the sadness was soaked up by idiotic hope, but right now its like the sadness just falls into a WTF hole and I am not sure how to respond.

I think about my own mortality now, I never used to. I think about when I will die, not just the off chance that I might die before the End. I think about the 'tribe' of people that I expected to be around me if I died, and how I'm no longer part of that tribe. When old people are dying in the 'tribe', everyone takes time to be with them. If I grow old, something else I never thought about ("The End will be here before you graduate!" they promised), maybe I will be alone, unshaven, face down in my own vomit... until some bill collector or utility person happens to find me. Yet, other than the somewhat morose feeling I have to think of myself being dead... its unreal, its like fiction in my head.

I'm beginning to wonder if I simply didn't grow the right emotions to deal with death...