Waiting to die…

Some days… like today… I can feel his breath on my neck because he’s so close. I can feel his presence in my every task as he waits. He waits for the inevitable. He waits to do his job of taking my soul from this world. The reaper is my only constant companion these days. Death is my only commitment.  

Some days I talk to him. I tell him I’m ready. I’m ready for the pain to end. I’m ready to go to my final destination. I can feel the inevitability of it all. Some days I’m at peace with it all. Some days… 

Most days I hold on with every ounce of life and yell at him that I’m not ready… that I never will be. I still have days where I feel alive and I cling to those days. Those are the days where my mind and body decide to work. 

I know my time will come… I can feel that it’s probably soon. I spend my days cherishing moments… I focus on trying to reconnect with people. I hate being alone… it reminds me that I will die alone.  
I’m afraid… I’m afraid of what happens next. I pray for it to come quickly and just end the never ending pain and emotional struggle. Yet I am afraid of dying.  

I pray I’ve touched a life or two. I pray I’ve helped the world in some way. I pray I’m not forgotten… I mean I’m forgettable even alive so I don’t imagine my legacy will go far. So I wait… I wait for death to take my pain away.   

And some days just suck…

This is not the blog post I wanted to make but it’s one that I need to make…
Today is bad. Today I don’t want to leave my bed because I’m in so much pain. Today I honestly want to die. I had a run of good and decent days so this was bound to happen. Last night it hit like a brick and hasn’t let up. 

I feel like every time one of these bad days hits it knocks the wind out of my sails. Every time my body hits this wall I wonder how many more bad days I can take. At what point do I say enough is enough?  

When you know your most likely never going to be healthy again you realize your life is literally just enjoying the good days as they become fewer and fewer. Yes most days I can get out there and slap a smile on my face pretending things are great… but that’s not how I feel most of time. 

So how long does one suffer? How many bad days does one face alone in bed while the world moves top speed around them? It’s funny how when you feel like this how many of your friends forget you. It’s easy to forget someone who has to stand still. It’s easy to walk away rather than stand by someone when it gets uncomfortable.  

So today will be a day of rest… a forced day of rest. It will also be a day of tears. This is the part of a chronic illness or chronic pain people don’t want to see. This is the part we all try to hide. This is the part we try to slap a smile over so people don’t uncomfortable.  

One day it will end. One way or another. Either the bad days will become too much or a cure will be found… but thankfully one day it will end.  I take comfort in that. Now excuse me while I withdraw from the world…