I don’t properly understand the subject of death…
It confuses me.
I feel so little about it…
What’s there to be confused about? The concept is simple. You’re here, breathing, one moment and the next moment you’re gone and you can’t come back. People fear it because it’s so permanent. They hate it because it’s irreversible. And me? I feel nothing because I’m confused about the feeling.
You won’t be forever, is what everyone says. One day you’ll feel it, Faithe, and then you’ll understand and then you’ll hate it like everyone else. But will I? I feel as if I’d just rationalize it like I do with everything else. I’d rationalize the feeling, lessen it in my mind, and then again be confused by my physical discomfort.
Because in reality what am I mourning? A change in my life? Isn’t that what it is? When someone leaves me and doesn’t come back… am I not just mourning the change? The difference between seeing someone, being able to see them whenever I like, and not? Or am I mourning the fact that’s it is difficult for me? Am I mourning because it hurts and it shouldn’t? Because compared to the significance of billions of people together a single person within this group is menial, insignificant, and silly, and yet somehow such an insignificant person was important to me. Am I weeping because some part of me realizes this? Am I sad because in comparison the feeling is really quite small? Or am I miserable because I forgot to say something? Did I have something to say that I now can’t? That will forever be in the back of my mind? Do I feel guilty because of it? Overcome with guilt and stuck in anguish because of it? Or am I merely afraid of it? Does it scare me, passing on? Am I afraid that my beliefs might fail me? That it’s only possibly true?
But the way I see it, you always have to be somewhere. If I’m not here and I’m not there, then I must be somewhere else. It’s a general rule of life. But is it the same as death? Is death really just life elsewhere?
I feel like that is the only question to really worry about when considering death. Whether all of your beliefs were lies to begin with, but seeing as the conclusion will find us inevitably, it all seems rather silly to me.
Because if I’m afraid of change in my life than how is it that I’ve been living? Everything around me has changed constantly since birth, so another change seems an odd thing to mourn. I can see that it’s a significant change though, but that’s really the only difference that I can fathom and doesn’t seem enough for me to cry about.
And if I’m sad because I feel as if no one else understands the significance of this person, well… that’s a bit ridiculous too. There are many things that I value much higher than other things, but when someone says that they value them less than I do it doesn’t cause me anywhere near this sort of discomfort. Why is this so different? Who cares if the deceased mattered to anyone else? They mattered to me so that’s that. But that doesn’t seem to be so. People need people to share in their sorrow… but why? Doesn’t that seem a bit selfish, but then I suppose you’d say people are allowed to be selfish occasionally. Well, I feel a bit too selfish to begin with so…
Then if it’s just because I had to say something and didn’t, I think that goes back to whether you truly believe what you believe. Personally, I imagine that once you die you go on to wherever you go and you become all knowledgeable simply because knowledge no longer matters. The world becomes a type of long television show told in 3rd person omniscient. Now you know everything about the characters and they have no idea that you’re screaming at their situation and telling them what to do. And because of this belief, this reasoning is odd to me as well. I don’t need to tell anyone anything really because once they die, they’ll already know.
“Faithe, you need to work on that,” my friend told me once. But is it really an issue? That I don’t understand the issue?
It’s true that a lack of understanding can cause distance because of a lack of empathy, but it also keeps out pain and I see nothing wrong with that. I don’t pretend that I don’t feel anything, that it wouldn’t hurt me just like anyone else, I’m merely saying that I don’t condone those feelings. I don’t allow them to matter because I can’t logically see why they should. I suppose this makes me an empty person, but it’s not that I don’t feel! I just can’t find the significance in emotion and when someone references toward an event that stirred such an abundance of it I can’t understand why it does.
The only instance that I find particularly devastating is when a child dies in an accident or because of a disease of some type. THAT I understand because they hardly had time to live… and your child is a part of you… There’s as deep connection in that, I think. THAT I can understand.
Or maybe if one of my really good friends died… or my little brothers or older sister…
That’s still kinda messed up though isn’t it? That I only care for the deaths of children and immediate family members? The only reason being that they’re young and haven’t lived fully? That seems wrong… But I can’t see the significance in mourning anything else… People are supposed to die, right? It’s inevitable? And old people die every day…
I almost feel like sadness is a type of peer pressure thing. They say to be sad so you’re sad so you can be accepted and then eventually you really become sad. Fake it until you make it I guess. I think I missed that induction…
Ugh… What a frustrating subject.
There’s no conclusion to this one.