It has been hot. I have been trying to get a leg up on the worst summer allergies I can ever remember having. I have what may be a wrinkle on my earlobe of all places.
With the break of dawn scurry to the bathroom where I can wheeze and cough and not wet the bed by accident, well, I got to thinking there is a very real possibility that I am going to die. This is depressing on too many levels.
Am I doing enough with my alive time? Have I made a difference in someone’s life? Am I a good person? What happens to reality if I am not there to interact with it?
Even worse. What if my darling husband is right and when I, um, come to a stop, there is nothing after that? I am not ready to stop being self-aware. I’m not done. But worse still, I haven’t planned ahead either.
I’m sitting in my Big Bird Nest having all of these worries when I look up at a news story and get carried away in disablest thoughts.
Disablism is like racism, but worse. Worse because the following expressions are deemed okay to share with me.
- “I’d rather be dead that disabled.”
- “He hasn’t come out of surgery, yet, but I know he wouldn’t want to live in a wheelchair.”
- “Oh, the baby? Boy or Girl? We don’t care as long as it’s healthy.”
So, here I am worried about coming to a complete stop as I scurry off to the bathroom because I feel a bout of coughing coming on, only to discover, I am already leading a life, deemed by many, to be, worse than Death.
What the heck was I thinking?
By the way, all of you horrid disablest people out there, mine is the only minority you can join at any moment of any day. Suck on that.
I promise to come back soon with a much better attitude. Don’t touch anything sharp.
Comments
3 responses to “On Living a Life Worse than Death”
LIfe is what you make it. I think you’re making a good one. You work in a field that interests you, and you touch a lot of other lives. How could that be a bad thing?
Feel sorry for those “disabilist” people. Just think of all they’re missing with their closed minds and stupid attitudes. Why, they’re missing out on being friends with you! I wouldn’t give that up for anything. You make my life brighter. 🙂
“I am not ready to stop being self-aware. I’m not done. But worse still, I haven’t planned ahead either”. Hey Sally, I don’t know if there is a way to “plan ahead” for non-existence. I mean if you’re given a timetable and can spend time sharing your memories with loved ones, that’s about the best you can hope for. My Dad had a stroke after fighting cancer for many years, and he wanted the Grim Reaper to appear immediately after he became bed-ridden because to him, his life was over. I say as long as you can still think and dream, you’re doing well. My Mom had dementia that stole her from me and from herself by inches, slowly. That was much worse.
Disabled is like fat…people still feel an involuntary sense of judgment around you. They assess your situation and quickly reject the possibility that they might be in your situation, so to make themselves feel safer they make stupid comments. I can only offer you sympathy in your current woes and empathy for what you have to deal with from strangers on a daily basis.
I know it’s difficult to remain upbeat. The whole world sometimes seems bent on depressing you. There’s a Nine Inch Nails song with the lines, “Clouds will part and the sky cracks open and God Himself will reach his f***ing arm through, just to push you down, just to hold you down!” But as long as you have breath and self-awareness, you must hold onto hope of continuing to have both, and look for the small joys that can make it all bearable…and sometimes even wondrous.
Hugs.
“mine is the only minority you can join at any moment of any day” … and in the blink of an eye too!
.. sorry to hear you’re having a s**t of a day, Sally. Sometimes it’s good to tell the world where it can go! And it’s little dog too!
Hope tomorrow is a brighter one for you.