thursday 16.11
The lack of compassion that I am seeing from others concerns me and makes me realize what I have often felt and thought, we ( in this case, ME) are disposable. I say we only because although my ego was stripped a number of months ago when I was told I was terminally ill, my terminal illness affects others. Everything that I knew and understood, changed with some serious one on one conversations with specialists and I did not want to believe nor even think that I was terminal, am disposable, over time and distance, while knowing life is for the living and life does go on and will go on without me as I become a memory, something that was and no longer is.
I believe this is why memory is created and as time continues, memory fades and sadly, some of the most intense memory is created and shared with another person and if you watch carefully, from a distance as I prefer, you watch the relationship change, your value change and your level of importance not as great as it appeared to once be, for what ever reason.
Add a terminal illness and people, some, enough for it to be mentioned and stir up intense emotion, protect themselves from that which they loved, in my case, the eventual loss of me. And in putting up such armor they often forget what I, the recipient of thoughtlessness, must feel when it is mentioned that to be around me is too difficult or stressful or too painful.
Add the fact that I am on borrowed time and in my humble opinion, have fortunately beat the odds before me by living longer than a projected six months and I wonder more often than not what this living thing truly is worth. Never did I think or believe or even anticipate having to answer for living longer than six months and unfortunately as six months has passed, I am being questioned, surprisingly, as to whether I embellished a situation or possibly the doctors, all seven or eight have completely miscalculated and told me something that was false, in the name of defrauding me, my family, my friends and acquaintances and the government in the process to continue to provide me medical care for a disease that has no cure. I wonder if people perceive this as some sick joke seeing themselves as a selfish victim, forgetting that six months is a timeline, my terminal status is my life.
I believe that often I am so selective with whom I speak with and what I share that those around me forget the sixty plus pills I take each and every day in order to have some assemblance of existence as I move through the final stage of my life as I know it. And I am ashamed and bewildered by 'true' thinkers and other participants who find it more important to protect themselves and their loved ones from my truth, my terminal state than allowing the truth to just be and enjoying the time I have left with me instead of making excuses without me, crushing my spirit and causing me to be even more selective in what I say and who I say it to.
And sadly, as it was so ineloquently mentioned to me this afternoon, I need to enjoy and do and experience all that I have left because soon I will not remember and soon is while I am alive and requiring twenty-four hour care from whomever decided to be my care giver at that time. And honestly, as I look around and think, really think, I am not sure there is a one someone that I trust completely to assist me as I make the transition from the end of this life to the beginning of something that I know to be more powerful and more meaningful.
In the end, I feel guilty for the comments so carefully tossed my way about me still being alive. It has been made clear to me that my continued living is burdensome on others, too demanding and once I too shall pass, I will be forgotten by many and never really known by all but a selected few and even then my self is safe knowing I use myself as my sounding board for anything of pertinence for I know no other way to obtain that complicated simple something I have written about and will write about again, love unconditionally.
I believe this is why memory is created and as time continues, memory fades and sadly, some of the most intense memory is created and shared with another person and if you watch carefully, from a distance as I prefer, you watch the relationship change, your value change and your level of importance not as great as it appeared to once be, for what ever reason.
Add a terminal illness and people, some, enough for it to be mentioned and stir up intense emotion, protect themselves from that which they loved, in my case, the eventual loss of me. And in putting up such armor they often forget what I, the recipient of thoughtlessness, must feel when it is mentioned that to be around me is too difficult or stressful or too painful.
Add the fact that I am on borrowed time and in my humble opinion, have fortunately beat the odds before me by living longer than a projected six months and I wonder more often than not what this living thing truly is worth. Never did I think or believe or even anticipate having to answer for living longer than six months and unfortunately as six months has passed, I am being questioned, surprisingly, as to whether I embellished a situation or possibly the doctors, all seven or eight have completely miscalculated and told me something that was false, in the name of defrauding me, my family, my friends and acquaintances and the government in the process to continue to provide me medical care for a disease that has no cure. I wonder if people perceive this as some sick joke seeing themselves as a selfish victim, forgetting that six months is a timeline, my terminal status is my life.
I believe that often I am so selective with whom I speak with and what I share that those around me forget the sixty plus pills I take each and every day in order to have some assemblance of existence as I move through the final stage of my life as I know it. And I am ashamed and bewildered by 'true' thinkers and other participants who find it more important to protect themselves and their loved ones from my truth, my terminal state than allowing the truth to just be and enjoying the time I have left with me instead of making excuses without me, crushing my spirit and causing me to be even more selective in what I say and who I say it to.
And sadly, as it was so ineloquently mentioned to me this afternoon, I need to enjoy and do and experience all that I have left because soon I will not remember and soon is while I am alive and requiring twenty-four hour care from whomever decided to be my care giver at that time. And honestly, as I look around and think, really think, I am not sure there is a one someone that I trust completely to assist me as I make the transition from the end of this life to the beginning of something that I know to be more powerful and more meaningful.
In the end, I feel guilty for the comments so carefully tossed my way about me still being alive. It has been made clear to me that my continued living is burdensome on others, too demanding and once I too shall pass, I will be forgotten by many and never really known by all but a selected few and even then my self is safe knowing I use myself as my sounding board for anything of pertinence for I know no other way to obtain that complicated simple something I have written about and will write about again, love unconditionally.
posted by the warrior at 10:55 PM
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