After being sick for over a week and missing a few classes, I am so behind. So so behind. I had a lot of time this weekend to catch up, but of course I didn't. I went to work, came home, walked the dog, and took a lot of naps. I watched a lot of TV. I spent some time with my thoughts. I still feel pretty tired from being sick and the weather, coupled with my current attitude, isn't helping much at all.
Someone I went to high school with passed away earlier this month. I just found out about it via the eerily omniscent facebook. Like the other deaths of former classmates, I didn't know her well. I spoke to her some, but not a whole lot. But again, I am sitting at the computer, holding back tears, because it scares the shit out of me how quickly life comes and goes. We have these plans, these goals... and we say things are meant to be. But those important goals and convictions for our lives are sometimes interrupted by death.
I've always been a morbid person. I consider it realism, but others have labeled it morbid. Call it what you will, I always have death on my mind. When David was trying for a year to convince me to adopt a dog, all I could think about was the heartbreak of one day putting it to sleep. Whenever David is later at work then expected, thoughts race through my mind about his body at the bottom of Lake Michigan. If I walk Jake alone at night I bring pepper spray and spend the whole walk not enjoying Jake's company or the breeze off the lake, but examining each and every passerby, the atheist, praying, even, that these people just see that Jake is a pit bull and don't look into his kind sweet eyes. A couple of my classes are in hallways where a lot of theatre students have their classes. Whenever I hear them making a lot of noise during rehearsals, I know there's a school shooting happening. I know where I'd hide in each classroom I sit in. It's hard for me to get close to people, because I know one day they'll be gone. One of the members of my intentional family (family I've chosen intentionally, not of blood relation) has HIV. There's a part of me that wants to keep him at arms length, because I know one day he'll be gone.
I know those who consider this "morbid" are right when they tell me that Jake will be around for at least 10 years, barring all disasters. I know David leaves work with an army of big kitchen guys carrying lots of knives with them. I know most of the people in my neighborhood are women walking alone like me. I know out of all the colleges and universities, a very small percent will ever be involved in a shooting. I know I have many years left with my friend. I also know that life will be much more enjoyable, that I 'll smile more, if I think more positively. What if I just loved Jake without thinking so far head? What if I just walked him, enjoying my surroundings and the quietness of the usually hectic city? What if I just loved the people in my life fully?
It means I would get hurt later. It will hurt worse when they go. I learned this at an early age and I can't seem to shake it. I don't know that I want to. In a way it makes me feel safe, like I'm cheating this birth and death cycle, like I have it figured out and I'm prepared for it.
Then, I guess we never are. And in being so negative and guarded and worried now, I'm not eliminating the hurt in the future. I'll just have both, where most normal positive people just have the one. I know that. But my experiences tell me to act otherwise.
I'm having a problem maintaining a healthy balance in a lot of areas of my life.
It makes me feel crazy.