How Do You handle Death?
POSTED BY: RiveR6213
UPDATED: Sunday, January 18, 2009 19:09
VIEWED: 23778
PAGE 8 of 15
Well spoken. In referandum to my previous post I obviously agree.
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All good things must come to an end.
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Quote:
Originally posted by zoid:
P.S.
I don't know if Joss handled Wash's death the way he did on purpose, but that was a stroke of genius, and no doubt about it. By not letting him finish his 'last words', Wash becomes the very image of the way the 'comman man' dies: Suddenly, leaving things unfinished, and almost unattended, as Life and its challenges continue to rush at those who must carry on. And yet, we still mourn and miss them in quiet, unguarded moments, even years later. Even years later, we may be transfixed by a happy memory of a lost friend or loved one; a word spoken, a loving caress, or a funny facial expression.
Anyone who says they can't feel that is either lying (cowering in fear) or very sick in the head. To those in the former category: Grow a pair and get back in the game; you "have nothing to fear but Fear itself". To those in the latter category I recommend, as Dennis Miller put it, "leaning in and taking one for the team"...
Zoid, while I do agree with some of the things you said, there is a point I must disagree with you on. I do not believe that people who do not feel grief at the loss of a loved one fall into one of those two catagories. From personal experience, I do not dwell sorrowfully at experiences never had with my father in the quiet times, but rather I think with happiness upon the times that I did have with him. When I do this, I never feel regret,or anything like that. My father is dead. I will never see or speak with him again, save in my mind's eye.
I have seen people who react with grief at loss, and have myself in the long past, before I came to understand that it is better to reflect fondly on a person's life rather than sady on thier death. Simply take death as it is: an ending. There is nothing sad about it, and never dwell on missed opportunities, because nothing good can ever come of it.
I suppose you could say I also take a bit of Jayne's attitude to death in The Message as well. When death has come to to me in the past, immediately after, I feel the need to just DO something to help reflect, rather than sit around moping. I would ride my bike, or climb a tree, or start a new picture(I am an art major), while I think of the person I lost with fondness. And the memories would always make me smile.
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All good things must come to an end.
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Reading these posts I have to come to the conclusion that something in this society has shut off so many young people from caring, from their emotions and from love. I am 55, and I am grieving very much, for my Mother died about 2 months ago. Yes, she was in bad shape and in many ways it is a relief, I had taken care of her for 6 years, and the last ones over 2 years 24/7. She was 89 years old, I am an only child. And yet, I miss what there was of her, her smile, telling her I loved her, the small things she might be able to still enjoy. I loved her more then words can say and while it might be better for her now, I am extremely saddened. I changed her, fed her, kept her alive. I am from a somewhat better time, I think. These days, what with illegal immoral wars, and all people can think about is themselves, and not acknowledge that and the other evils going on around them, and the shallow celebrity culture, and maybe so many not having a close attachment to someone, well, it is very sad. I miss my mom, always will, and did the best I could for her. She was a wonderful person, when she was herself, and sacrificed for me and my mostly ill father. I am honored that I took care of her, and will miss and love her till I am no more. I think it is sad so many here are so crass and flip about it,, it shows me sad things about today's world.
I stand between the Candle and the Star. Between the Darkness and the light.
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River,
You're my kinda crazy.
The only death of a loved one that still bothers me is my kitty that I had & loved for 16 years. It's been 3 years & it still makes me cry like a babe.
Otherwise, I tend to react very much like you, not seeing what the fuss is about.It's not like it can be avoided or anything.
Bryce
*************************************
I swallowed a bug.
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How does one handle death?
Many people have presented many ways and methods answering this question. It makes you think a lot about death. As I stated in previous posts, I boasted about having no problems with my death or the death of others, which still holds true.
Sometimes, when you run into people like this, for a moment, you could actually become a little envious of their attitude concerning death because it seems so clear-cut. Either they are hiding something, or they may actually feel this way, but with the balance of cause and effect of life...in this area, and this attitude for some, the balance shows itself in a different direction.
I begin to think about some of your responses to my and other people's posts from Sunday, and I found myself at certain points, for a moment, feeling rather smug that I didn't have a problem dealing with death, but then someone, and I can't remember the name of the poster, said something that caught in my mind like glue and I haven’t been able to get rid of it. It kept me up all night long. I’ve never thought in this direction before because I was always trying to make up excuses; was always trying to hide this from myself. I have no problem dealing with death all right, but I DO have a major problem dealing with life.
Self-Pity Mode- Engaged
Off-Topic Mode -Engaged
I'm sitting here at my desk at work feeling really miserable because I now know that I hate my life. I mean really hate it. I hate this thing I’ve created…its so soulless. I hate this company I started. I hate the people. I hate coming in here and seeing their creepy little faces expecting me to make a decision. I hate their expectations of me. I hate that they change their attitudes around me and try to kiss ass. I hate the backbiting they do with each other. I hate my cars, and I hate my boats. I hate that people put on a fake face to me just because they know I have money at this company. They fucking French kiss my ass here to get ahead. I hate the stupid parties that I have to throw for these idiots here to make them happy and work harder. I hate the paperwork; GOD!!! I hate the paperwork! I hate the meetings. I hate it I hate it I hate I hate it!!!!
I wish I could just leave it all behind me. I feel like running away from it all. I wish I were poor and happy living in some hellhole somewhere, sharing a can of tuna with a person I love. I wish I could change my personality, and my race and be someone else. I hate being me. I’m so joyless, and boring. I’ve become what I hate the most. I’m this soulless, money grubbing, full of myself, white privileged asshole. Is there an asshole gene? If there is I have it in spades.
You know, after all these years I don’t have a clue how to live a life and be happy; I never have. I made it to the top of the heap in these parts and what am I? A Sad Little Queen on a Sad Little Hill.
Self-Pity Mode Disengaged
Off-Topic Mode Disengaged
River
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Sometimes I like to think of myself as a writer, I'm not a very good one and I never published anything, but there is one story I believe in, a novel that I wish I had the skill to write the way it deserves to be writen.
This is the main character from it, Thomas who is narrating, and several minor characters he's having lunch with in high school. The conversation is hardly deep, but it's the kind of conversation I had in high school so I figured it fit.
It's not polished or even remotely good, but I feel like sharing it. The characters mentioned are Ryan (Ry), Alex (Lex), and Cassandra (Doom.) Thomas doesn't even use his own name much and never took the time to get a nickname.
So here's how a fictional character looks at death, which is different from handling it, but I was reminded of this by, "Or are we grieving for our own loss -- never seeing or experiencing this person again -- even though he was only a fictional character?" And the idea that the bad part of death is the loss of experience.
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"I don't think anyone fears death," I said, entering into my first conversation with them.
Most of them looked at me funny, Lex said, "Huh?" I decided to explain myself, which would involve talking more than I had in a week of coming to that table. Mostly I had sat and watched them and enjoyed the company.
"Let's say there's nothing after death." I let that hang. "No after life, no ghostness, just a whole lot of nothing. No consciousness. Your life is over and that's it."
"That's scary," Ry said.
"Is it death you fear? A moment of your life just like any other, except another moment doesn't come after it." I shook my head. "Wouldn't you cherish that moment, wouldn't you love it more than anything else? Because if that moment wasn’t there," I paused, "you'd have one moment less.
"Or is it the moment after? The moment you cease to be. The moment that you aren't there anymore. The moment that you’ll never open your eyes again. Isn't that what you fear? The sunrises you'll never see, the flowers you'll never smell, the snowballs you'll never throw, and the pizza you'll never eat. Isn't that what you fear the most? Life going on without you.
"They'll say, 'It's not the end of the world,' but it is. It is for you."
"Damn," Doom said. And the table was silent. Sometimes you say something so deep, so disturbing it fucks everything up. I had depressed all of them. "Now would someone pass me a piece of pizza before I die?" and by saying that I jumpstarted half a dozen conversations, which is impressive considering how few people there were.
I ate a pizza while wondering how they managed to hold so many conversations at once. I have trouble keeping track of one, they were all holding two or three.
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RiveR6213 wrote:
Quote:
...You know, after all these years I don’t have a clue how to live a life and be happy; I never have. I made it to the top of the heap in these parts and what am I? A Sad Little Queen on a Sad Little Hill.
So, quit!
Quit being a "soulless, money grubbing, full of myself, white privileged asshole".
Just quit it.
To those whom much has been given, much will be demanded. (Paraphrased, a la JFK, from Luke 12:48)
Who's forcing you to be a leech on the backside of humanity? You proclaim to be in control of your destiny, of what your personality is. So who is that powerful Svengali that's forcing you into such isolationist modes of thought, into a prison of your own design? It's only you.
You don't trust others, because they want to control you, or because they want to take advantage of your trusting nature. But it's only you that's screwing yourself over. ...That and your beloved (damned) possessions.
So, here's a place to start:
Wear (or purchase) the most unassuming clothing you can find. Buy a cheap pocketbook to put your ID in; carry no credit cards, money or other trinkets. Take off all your jewelry, perfume and makeup. Brush all the 'product' out of your hair.
Take a taxi or *gulp!* ride the bus to a homeless shelter, an orphanage, a battered women's shelter -- whatever suits your conscience. (i.e., Don't drive or have yourself driven in one of your automobiles.) These institutions are everywhere in this day and age, so don't say there's not one in your area. If not, jet to another city, then change into your cheap, unfashionable, ill-fitting disguise and read on.
When you get there, volunteer to help for the day. If they ask for your ID, show it to them; nobody will recognize you, regardless how famous you think you are. If you don't look like somebody who has recently bathed in mother's milk, you won't get a second glance.
The people you will meet in these places will shock you to your core. They will be 'poorly maintained': they may smell bad, have bad teeth, be malnourished, suffering from chemical dependence withdrawal symptoms (even the infants), have bruises and scars... They may look at you with distrust, fear, apathy, even outright hatred.
In other words, they are just like you.
They are made of flesh and blood, and have hearts and minds. Tend them even though they distrust, fear and hate you. Feed them. Comfort them. Ask for nothing -- not even a thank you -- in return. If they do thank you, if a child hugs you, accept it as though it were a blessing from God her/himself (because it is).
But the key is to do these things anonymously, not for recognition or as a publicity stunt, not as a public display of generosity. Just be a person, ordinary and unremarkable, doing things strictly for the benefit of people to whom Life has not been as kind as it has been to you.
Sometime during your day of labors, get the mailing address of the charity's administrative offices and later mail them an exorbitant sum of money, untraceable to you. Never claim it on your income tax, or tell anyone from your company or the media that you did it.
Repeat as necessary...
Eventually, this will change you into a person capable of (responsibly) caring about others, and capable of being (genuinely) cared about in return. How? Because persons in these circumstances cannot demand anything of anyone; they are living on the very edge of existence. They are the people marginalized by the greed of the wealthy, by those who connive to possess 200 times as much as they need to comfortably survive. Where did you think that money comes from? Do you think they just print up more whenever rich people decide they don't have enough? Or did you ever suspect that perhaps it comes out of the pockets of the poorest among us, the most benighted, out of the mouths of babes?
Just give it back. Give it all back, if you can stand it. Sounds to me like none of it's doing you any good, only harm. At least giving
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Originally posted by RiveR6213:
Quote:
I'm sitting here at my desk at work feeling really miserable because I now know that I hate my life. I mean really hate it. I hate this thing I’ve created…its so soulless. I hate this company I started. I hate the people. I hate coming in here and seeing their creepy little faces expecting me to make a decision. I hate their expectations of me. I hate that they change their attitudes around me and try to kiss ass. I hate the backbiting they do with each other. I hate my cars, and I hate my boats. I hate that people put on a fake face to me just because they know I have money at this company. They fucking French kiss my ass here to get ahead. I hate the stupid parties that I have to throw for these idiots here to make them happy and work harder. I hate the paperwork; GOD!!! I hate the paperwork! I hate the meetings. I hate it I hate it I hate I hate it!!!!
I wish I could just leave it all behind me. I feel like running away from it all. I wish I were poor and happy living in some hellhole somewhere, sharing a can of tuna with a person I love. I wish I could change my personality, and my race and be someone else. I hate being me. I’m so joyless, and boring. I’ve become what I hate the most. I’m this soulless, money grubbing, full of myself, white privileged asshole. Is there an asshole gene? If there is I have it in spades.
You know, after all these years I don’t have a clue how to live a life and be happy; I never have. I made it to the top of the heap in these parts and what am I? A Sad Little Queen on a Sad Little Hill.
River
I keep thinking of you and what you've written. I've been struggling all night trying to find the words, the appropriate sentence that will have the words to soothe your querries, and each time I delete, close down the forum and sit down again to watch some TV. Then your posts come back to me and I find myself thinking of another way to possibly reply to your comments.
So here I am for the fifth, possibly sixth time, trying to construct a worthy reply. I'm not sure I'll do right even now but here goes....
River give yourself a break. If only for one night. Just one night when you don't think about all this stuff, all this vapour in random disarray. I couldn't agree more that life is a series of ups and downs. A Sisyphian struggle... But it needn't ALL be that way.
I'm somewhat sad to read your latest post about the life you've created and how much you hate it, but really why be so brutally analytical about your life? Why be so negative about what you've done. It's so easy to be negative about such things.
I could just as easily reduce my life to a series of failures: 35, no wife, no kids, no pension, short! Few friends, stays indoors talking on forums, don't own a house, can't own a house, can't fathom quadratic equations, can't get a book published, haven't advanced medicine or philosophical thought and have absolutely no grasp of the force!
You get my drift I'm sure. I'm just trying to establish the fact that you are being WAY, WAY to hard on yourself.
And for the record you're in no way faceless and boring where d'you get that from?! Have you seen the length of this thread, the variety of personallities at work here! It's fantastic! You've engaged the minds of several members, that has to count for something? No?
So ok you don't know the answers to life - none of us do, and therein lies the route of how we all wonderfully connect in this ever tumbling series of events, that have us laughing and crying to our graves...
The
Somnambulist
www.cirqus.com
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River,
You remind me so much of myself sometimes.
Zoid has some very good points .Try listening.But as you know ,it won't be easy. It never is, never will be.
But you do have us . And that's something.
Bryce
I swallowed a bug.
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Quote:
Originally posted by RiveR6213:
You know, after all these years I don't have a clue how to live a life and be happy; I never have.
I've not tried to change you mind or analyze you or any such thing. I've asked one question of you and when you didn't have an answer I didn't press it.
I bring this up to point out that I'm not interested in telling you how to live your life or be a better person.
But I do have something to say and I hope you'll think about it.
What you're doing obviously isn't working if that is true. You said you serve yourself so serve yourself.
If you haven't found a way to be happy then you've done a crappy job of serving yourself because you've accomplished nothing that actually helps you.
So if what you're doing now isn't working, and from what you said it isn't, change it.
What have you got to lose? Your sad little hill? Your spot at the top of the heap? Well neither of those is helping you right now, neither of those is serving you right now. So why not put them to work and try to get them to serve you, if they can't then that means they're failures.
Meaningless nothings in part of a life without a point.
Depressing perhaps, but I'm not always a ray of sunshine.
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Enjoy yourself, the worst that can happen is you die a horrible painful long drawn out death, and that's not really that bad when you think about it.
Obviously you have to find out what makes you happy, but that's a self-serving action that I'm sure you can pull off if you put your mind to it.
You have nothing of value to lose, and stuff to gain.
It is possible that you might find joy in other people, it's possible you might not. But you don't need to change your personality to do it either way.
Charity takes only the selfish need to sleep well at night and feel good about yourself.
Love is when it hurts you for another to be hurt (ok so that's only a small part of it), so when you do things for them you're doing it for yourself.
I can't see your soul or anything like that, but I have a feeling you aren't so fucked up that you can't enjoy life. That's because anyone can.
If you are an asshole and you really can't change that then go on being an asshole, but remember to look out for your state of mind as well as the rest.
If at some point you need to hold back on being an ass I doubt it would too hard for you, to get where you are you must know how to compromise.
What you're doing isn't working so change it, and if anyone tries to stop you tell them fuck off.
If you can change yourself so you don't hate yourself that's great, but if you can't you can still find some joy, so do it. Only two things stand in your way, you who you don't like much, and the rest of the world, which can fuck itself.
Live life, because what you're doing now doesn't sound like living, it's rotting with a pulse.
I can't tell you what to do, I don't want to anyway, but do something.
Something different. Maybe something you'd never normally do, just something totally out of character. Or not. Whatever. Do something. If that doesn't work do something else.
We're all dying and you've got only so many heartbeats left, it's time you had some fun.
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