death (and love) (858 hits)
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Submitted by Nuggs (View user info) at 2004-07-12 21:37:55 EDT
I do have something on my mind.
I think the feeling you get when falling in love is the same feeling you get when you're dying.
First you deny it. It's absolutly not possible. It's too soon, too much, too this too that choo choo!!
Then you resist it. You know it's there, and that it is most likely going to happen, but you try to be logical. "I can't be dying... my daughter is still in school... I'm sure everything will work out...". "I don't know him well enough to feel this love! It must not be real...! I'll come to my senses soon...".
Then submission.
I do love him.
I am dying.
Acceptance.
This is perfect.
This is meant to be.
There is a reason for this.
I can handle it.
Fear.
Am I sure this is it?
Can I really accept my fate?
Do I have any other options?
*****
When I was 16 I had jaw surgery. I had a small piece of my hip-bone (to be technical!) removed, a vien in my back taken out, and a piece of a rib sawed off- and this all aided in my operation.
I had visions. Maybe it was an out of body experience? I don't know. I saw myself laying in my hospital bed. My estranged grandmother was on my right- my mother stood across from her. They did not speak to each other, they simply dotted on me. I saw them standing next to the flowers- worrying about me. I felt their desperation.
I came to. I tried to talk, and relized that I could not. I had forgot that my jaw was wired shut. My head hurt. My face hurt. My jaw hurt. My body hurt. Even my feet hurt- they had been administiring shots through my toes.
I wanted to cry, but I didn't have the will. Why bother with it? My mother stood by my side. The nurse was poking around my head. My dad looked miserable. My uncle said, "You look just the same!". My dad laughed, "She does not! Her head is the size of a melon!".
The tear finaly broke through. It left a wet trail on my cheek.
***
I don't know if it was that same night, or a week later, or even two weeks later... I had no concept of time. My days were punctuated with Christians and Do-gooders. I hated them.
My room-mate was in a tent of some sort. A young boy... we watched each other often. I could not talk, and he could not hear. Later, my mom said he had AIDS. I don't know if this is true (I actually doubut it, but I really have no idea why he was in a plastic tent).
But- one night, I lay in bed. My mom had finally gone home with my dad. My room-mate was gone. It was dark. The nurses were coming in every few hours to poke needles into my toes and stick the thermometer in my arm-pit.
I hurt. I felt as if it was impossible to still be alive, amidst such pain. I didn't cry. I didn't call for the nurse. I didn't do anything except lay in the dark room and think. This was the first time I contemplated suicide.
I accepted the fact that the pain I was enduring was not endurable.
No matter how strong I was, I was not this strong.
I had to die. It was not possible to live.
I came to terms with my life. I accepted my mistakes. I rejoiced in my victories. My acceptance of my existance turned into the acceptance of my weakness. I could not live through this.
Obviously, I did.
The day after this awful night I remember thinking, "I'm so weak. I can't believe that I don't have the strength to deal with this.". A nurse came and started swabbing away at my stitches. I furrowed my eyebrows and grunted.
She continued. Through clenched teeth I screamed, "Get the fuck away! Leave it!". She tried to placate me... "No no, I do have to clean this- if you get an infection you'll be sorry.".
I passed out.
A few days later they told me I almost died. The trauma of all of the different jabs at my body was too much. My body revolted.
My hip was trying to heal at the same time that my back was trying to heal.
My wisdom teeth had been pulled for convienience, and they were fighting with my jaw for health.
My rib was throbbing with agony.
They tried doing too much at once, wooooops.
"It's really amazing that you pulled through," my doctor said. "You must have been experiencing unbareable pain. You should have told someone."
****
How can I compare that experience to love?
Because I don't know what's normal. I don't know what to expect. I am willing to hit rock bottom in order to find out that I've become a stronger person because of it.
True love can not be found without submitting yourself to all of the possiblities. Once you let go and allow yourself to feel love you may find yourself in an amazing situation.
You may also find that you're assed out.
User Reviews
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-07-01 22:39:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by gibberish (user info) at 2004-07-15 18:36:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Mediocre until I read this:
--You may also find that you're assed out.--
+1 for a good ending.
Submitted by corn_nugget (user info) at 2004-07-15 02:50:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
A- you should very well know that that is NOT what I was getting at.
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2004-07-14 08:51:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
It appears that I am a cunt.
Submitted by corn_nugget (user info) at 2004-07-13 10:40:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Yeah, I'm not a big fan of spiritual floaty shit... but hey... I felt that happen. Chances are it was just a coincidence. Too bad I forgot to conclude my story with it.
Vex, this was only 10 years ago- I don't think they were using Ketamine then, were they?
Wow, I never thought of that.
Because the interesting thing about the whole floaty shit thing happening was that usually when you are anestitized (arrrhhh I cant spell that!) it's a matter of being OUT and then it seems as if you instantly are awake- there is usually no sense of time. This time I def. felt the time lapse.
Submitted by Gnome (user info) at 2004-07-13 10:37:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
not for the spiritual floatyshit...but the comparison was quite well put.
Submitted by I_Have_a_Kristen_Fetish (user info) at 2004-07-13 06:49:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by corn_nugget (user info) at 2004-07-12 21:47:27 (#)
Ranking: 0
whats wrong Fetish?
---
I don't know if this is an actual question, or a smartassed reply. But I'll answer it anyways.
See: http://www.ubersite.com/m/38082#650238 and http://www.ubersite.com/m/38082#650281 for details.
Submitted by vex (user info) at 2004-07-13 05:43:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
You should find out if they gave you Ketamine during the operation as that can cause that out of body feeling you described.
Submitted by shandythedog (user info) at 2004-07-13 02:46:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
the first time i rode a two wheeler it was little rachel story that gave me the courage. wisely we did it on grass, in a park. i set off and couldn't believe it - i was riding! i was actually riding along on a bike! then i crashed into a tree.
but no harm was done and soon i was a maestro on two wheels.
Submitted by sixmilliondots (user info) at 2004-07-12 23:53:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I can totally relate to how love and death are the same.
Submitted by corn_nugget (user info) at 2004-07-12 23:37:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
oh my god- that's me:
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2004-07-12 23:35:33 (#)
Ranking: 2
Hey, they awarded an Ig Nobel prize to some scientists who demonstrated that people who are romantically in love with each other show the same seratonin levels in their blood as people who have severe Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (the levels are all out of whack in both cases). Strange, no?
****
When I love (like?) a guy I get very ocd about him.
That may explain why I don't have a boyfriend.
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2004-07-12 23:35:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Hey, they awarded an Ig Nobel prize to some scientists who demonstrated that people who are romantically in love with each other show the same seratonin levels in their blood as people who have severe Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (the levels are all out of whack in both cases). Strange, no?
Submitted by Socialist_Joe (user info) at 2004-07-12 23:26:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Val (user info) at 2004-07-12 22:40:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
awesome, as usual. :)
Submitted by CANt_HaNDel_tHA_PSI at 2004-07-12 22:34:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
WTF?!?!! Im not reading all that!!!LOL!!!
Submitted by corn_nugget (user info) at 2004-07-12 22:24:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Awe, y'all are so sweet...!
Daking- Yah, I think that, too... Sneezing and pooping- both like orgasms!
I swear!
(I haven't had a good one in a while)
har har
Submitted by cwl989 (user info) at 2004-07-12 22:16:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Mmm...
Two good ones in a row.
Submitted by Toolmang (user info) at 2004-07-12 22:09:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Todays posts are great!
Submitted by gibberish (user info) at 2004-07-12 22:08:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
hmmm...
Submitted by dakingisdead (user info) at 2004-07-12 21:53:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I agree with you that there is a very strange similarity between the two for some people.
I had a similar experiece in hospital and will write it here sometime. The pain thing though was controlled by a morphine pump that I had control of. WHOOOOOOOWEEEEE what a week I had!
You know orgasm is also a bit like death. Totally letting go and losing all perception of the world. In fact in Sicily there is a phrase which translates as it being 'the little death'.
Submitted by corn_nugget (user info) at 2004-07-12 21:47:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
whats wrong Fetish?
Submitted by corn_nugget (user info) at 2004-07-12 21:46:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Gheyboy-
What post? Forgot to link it Ole Boy... and, my experience with love is very....
minimal.
I think maybe the reason I can equate the two is because when I first submit myself to love I AM miserable... the loss of control is hard for me.
Or its quite possible I've never been in love, or near love, or near death or... well shit, who knows?
I'm drunk.
Submitted by I_Have_a_Kristen_Fetish (user info) at 2004-07-12 21:45:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm feeling a zero.
But, I'm ticked off at the moment, so I'll spot you a +2, just incase that's affecting my opinion of your post.
Submitted by youarsoghey (user info) at 2004-07-12 21:43:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
You should really check out this post. It's my story about my worst injury and how I thought I was going to die. Your point is very interesting, although not entirely correct. What follows the scared feeling of "I'm going to die" is mournful acceptance. What follows the feeling of "Oh my God I'm in love" is almost pure bliss. At least that's what I've learned from my experience. Sorry if I missed the exact point of your post, I skimmed a lot of it. Sorry :(
Submitted by corn_nugget (user info) at 2004-07-12 21:40:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
OH shit, I forgot about the visions part...
After I recovered, I told my mom about my dream...
I assumed it was a dream since I had never known my grandmother.
My moms jaw dropped. "what was she wearing in this dream?" she asked.
I thought for a second- "Hmm... A yellow sweater..."
Tears came to her eyes. "your grandmother came, that night... we thought you might not make it, so we called her".
Yes, she was wearing yellow.
(now, I don't generally believe in ghosts and all that shit, but this was an amazing thing... and I can't deny that it was odd)