Quote:
Originally Posted by thine_self_untrue
Yes. In many ways, I wait for it. In others, I fear I will facilitate it. There are nights I go to sleep and hope I never wake up. Mornings I open my eyes and wish I was dead.
I have thought about dying from illness, accident, suicide... too much. But in my mind there is always a subtle sweetness about my death. Something like relief.
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True.
In the same sense, the relief that is believed to be gained by passing can also be considered a new beginning, (as with every ending there is a new beginning).
Life is continuous. Think of it as our home. And the rooms as our next life with death as the doorway joining the rooms.....
My mother was chronically depressed. She looked forward to dying 30 years before she passed and she didn't hide that from anyone. It was painfully obvious.
I have one brother and one sister who are at that same point my mother was. They've told me how they now can relate to why mom was awaiting death with bells on.
I'm sorry but, despite that I went through a harder life than either of them, I still cannot relate to how one can just "exist"...awaiting death as though they have no other choice but to face the hand they were dealt with, (as though this life has absolutely nothing positive to offer them).
Although not easy, there is always the option to throw a card in and change your hand.
