Thoughts on mortality
Although this is always on my mind, in one intensity or another, events of this last week have brought this more to the forefront.
My oldest brother passed away about a week ago. This is not something that really came as a surprise; he'd had one of the flavors of hepatitis (hep C, I think) for some time now, and the doctors only gave him a few years to live as of, well, a few years ago. Last time he was here to visit he didn't realize where he was half the time, so we all knew it was coming soon.
Now, I can't say I'm really close to any of my siblings; I consider my friends here more "family" than I do my family, to be truthful. A good deal of this comes from the fact that I never knew any of them growing up. My closest sibling is about 15 or so years older than I am. My sister was around a bit as she lived nearby, but both of my brothers were out of the house before I really could start remembering anything (so before I was about 3 or 4 years old). At first they were off in the army, but when they got out they didn't move back anywhere near where we were living. Now that I'm older, I still don't really care much for any of them; my sister was always protecting her good-for-nothing son when he would steal from us, etc. Then soon after mom died she and my nephew moved off to...somewhere. I don't think anyone in the family really knows where they're at. I think last anyone heard they were down near Austin, TX somewhere. My brothers both thought that I wasn't doing a good job of looking after Dad, but I didn't see either one of them pretty much dropping everything in their life when Mom and Dad needed someone to help them with stuff and moving back. :P
Anyway, this got me thinking about my life over the past week, and my own mortality, and I'm putting it here. Not so much for anyone of you to read (although it might give an interesting look through the cobwebs into my brane!), but more to work it out of my mind.
I'm tired of living. However, I don't feel suicidal...more like, if a doctor came and told me I had a fatal illness, I don't think it would really bother me that much. I don't really think I'm depressed or anything like that. I don't think my life is horrible; it's a good enough life...not great, but better than many. I don't really know how to say it other than just "I'm tired of existing." I remember when I was younger, and didn't have so much of a life under my belt to filter my experience through, I would some nights lay awake in bed just being angry at my parents for bringing me into this world. And I'd felt that way ever since I could understand the difference between "alive" and "dead".
And yet, as I said, I don't really think I'm depressed. I have down times, true. But I also enjoy myself with my friends, and often entertain them with a quick wit. I enjoy my video games and movies and such (when I can focus on them enough to do so). I generally get together with my friends at least 3 times a week to play RPGs, or just hang out watching TV or whatever. And for all the health problems that I have, they don't really get me down; I've learned to live with them. They're a part of who and what I am as much as anything else.
My friends have often wondered at how calm I seem to be in advserse circumstances. Maybe, like the samurai of ancient Japan, I have come to terms with my own mortality, and am thus at peace.
My oldest brother passed away about a week ago. This is not something that really came as a surprise; he'd had one of the flavors of hepatitis (hep C, I think) for some time now, and the doctors only gave him a few years to live as of, well, a few years ago. Last time he was here to visit he didn't realize where he was half the time, so we all knew it was coming soon.
Now, I can't say I'm really close to any of my siblings; I consider my friends here more "family" than I do my family, to be truthful. A good deal of this comes from the fact that I never knew any of them growing up. My closest sibling is about 15 or so years older than I am. My sister was around a bit as she lived nearby, but both of my brothers were out of the house before I really could start remembering anything (so before I was about 3 or 4 years old). At first they were off in the army, but when they got out they didn't move back anywhere near where we were living. Now that I'm older, I still don't really care much for any of them; my sister was always protecting her good-for-nothing son when he would steal from us, etc. Then soon after mom died she and my nephew moved off to...somewhere. I don't think anyone in the family really knows where they're at. I think last anyone heard they were down near Austin, TX somewhere. My brothers both thought that I wasn't doing a good job of looking after Dad, but I didn't see either one of them pretty much dropping everything in their life when Mom and Dad needed someone to help them with stuff and moving back. :P
Anyway, this got me thinking about my life over the past week, and my own mortality, and I'm putting it here. Not so much for anyone of you to read (although it might give an interesting look through the cobwebs into my brane!), but more to work it out of my mind.
I'm tired of living. However, I don't feel suicidal...more like, if a doctor came and told me I had a fatal illness, I don't think it would really bother me that much. I don't really think I'm depressed or anything like that. I don't think my life is horrible; it's a good enough life...not great, but better than many. I don't really know how to say it other than just "I'm tired of existing." I remember when I was younger, and didn't have so much of a life under my belt to filter my experience through, I would some nights lay awake in bed just being angry at my parents for bringing me into this world. And I'd felt that way ever since I could understand the difference between "alive" and "dead".
And yet, as I said, I don't really think I'm depressed. I have down times, true. But I also enjoy myself with my friends, and often entertain them with a quick wit. I enjoy my video games and movies and such (when I can focus on them enough to do so). I generally get together with my friends at least 3 times a week to play RPGs, or just hang out watching TV or whatever. And for all the health problems that I have, they don't really get me down; I've learned to live with them. They're a part of who and what I am as much as anything else.
My friends have often wondered at how calm I seem to be in advserse circumstances. Maybe, like the samurai of ancient Japan, I have come to terms with my own mortality, and am thus at peace.