Death - Just can't wrap my head around it

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I'm sorry to hear this. This worries me too. I have a hard time getting too close to people (read: intimate relationships) sometimes because I deeply fear the death of the person I'm involved with. It's something I'm working on.

Wow, can I relate! I love animals, but it hurt so much when my rats died that I just couldn't bring myself to have anymore. I couldn't even think about a dog or a cat.

The biggie was in 2008, when my girlfriend committed suicide. I haven't had a relationship since. I went on one date once, and I was terrified. At my band's gig on Saturday, there were quite a few beautiful women hitting on me. (That rarely happens in my life.) I was really flattered, but even the thought of caring that much about a person who might not be there one day is absolutely surreal. The pain of Sydney's suicide very nearly ended me. Is love worth that kind of pain? Is it really better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all? I like the love part, but the loss part really could kill me. I thought seriously about following Sydney for a long time afterward. I know, most relationships don't end in suicide, and when people die in other ways, it's a lot less crazy-making than suicide, but it feels kinda like riding a motorcycle without a helmet. The odds of me dying because I'm not wearing the helmet are pretty slim, yet I wouldn't even think about riding without a helmet. If falling in love could end in that degree of pain, possibly my death, isn't is a matter of personal safety to avoid it? This is probably irrational or unhealthy reasoning on my part, but I've got a lot of work to do on myself before I invite anyone new into my world.

(Sidetrack: In April of 2010, my helmet probably did save my life when a car turned left in front of me. The helmet - DOT and Snell rated, which means it was high quality and extra-safe - was destroyed when my head hit the pavement and scraped along the road surface for what seemed like an eternity, and I had a mild concussion, but the hospital staff, many of whom were not working with me, paraded through my room in the ER to see my helmet, and many of them thanked me personally for wearing the helmet. They rarely get motorcycle accidents with head injuries when the rider was wearing a helmet. They usually just get people with such severe brain injuries that they die or are permanently and severely disabled, and they all hate it when that happens. It really does affect them, which is why I think bikers should think about what they're putting rescue workers through before they choose to ride without a helmet. Think of the poor person who has to collect all the skull and brain fragments from the street, and how that might affect their lives. Is your "freedom" worth giving someone you don't know PTSD? End of sidetrack.)

I'm 45 now, and the older I get, the more often it seems that people I know are dying (which totally makes sense). About a month ago a partner in a recording studio co-op died suddenly of natural causes (possibly cigarette-related). He was in his 50s, and I really didn't know him that well. I think Adam's death hurts more because he was so young, so unusually kind and thoughtful, and his death was unnecessary, though he made the only choice he could make while being true to himself. He ran upstairs to get everyone out of bed, and at least one of his housemates is alive today because Adam made that choice, the one that meant he would not be alive today.

Losing Adam hurts just a little bit less today than it did a few days ago, but the absoluteness of death and the impossibility of understanding it is always there. I think the answer for me will have something to do with accepting that I can't understand it, and it happens to every living thing. Trying to understand such an ultimate mystery is probably only causing me frustration and pain. I can't understand it, so why try? Why not just deal with life, because that's what I have now? When I "have death," maybe that would be a better time to concern myself with learning about it, or whether that's even important.

When my grandpa reached his end in the hospital, the nurses had pamphlets to help us family members know what to expect, and what really stood out to me was how personal the experience of dying is. If it happens over a period of time (rather than suddenly, like it did with Adam), the person who is dying slowly withdraws from everyone. This world - this reality - is becoming meaningless to someone who is dying, and that includes the people they love, who are part of this reality, not the one where they are headed. Everyone dies their own death, and no one can go along with them. I've often wondered since then if that's related to why dogs and cats (and other pets and many animals in nature) will often go somewhere private to die. A lot of them run away if they can so they don't die in front of their owners.

Enough of my novel-length post. I can't think of a good way to end this post, so I'll just say that I'm alive and doing pretty well now, and thank you all for being so supportive!

Take care man