When I was talking to my mother about waking up to the room spinning and it continuing for several days, she said, “That must have been very frightening.”
Nope.
I am almost never frightened of anything anymore.
I was angry. I was frustrated. I wanted to run away. I wished I was just dead already. I wanted my wife to be alive to comfort me.
But I was not afraid.
Sometimes I make a conscious choice not to live in fear.
For example, I walked away from a job opportunity that would have given me greater financial security for the future. I decided to stay retired vs. returning to work. If I become financially insecure down the road, I’ll deal with it then. I have options and a plan.
Most of the time, I don’t even have to think about not being afraid. It’s just the way I am now. I’m not afraid of Covid. I’m not afraid of a worldwide societal collapse. I am not afraid of war. I’m not afraid of terrorism. I’m not afraid of crime. Or zombies. Or boredom. Or loneliness. Or poverty.
The worst has already happened for me – the love of my life suffered immensely, was tormented by pain, had horrible medical procedures and then died.
After my wife died, I no longer cared whether I lived or died. I still don’t.
Most of the time, I enjoy my life today. On the rare occasions when I don’t, I manage to cope well enough to get through to the next day. It’s a relatively pleasant, although somewhat purposeless, existence.
I was driven my entire life to succeed:
- In school
- As a husband
- As a stepfather
- In my career
- Financially
- Socially
I worked very hard to provide a comfortable life and a secure future for my wife and family.
Now without them, I am no longer driven. Ironically, the work I did to secure my wife’s future ended up securing mine.
I have enough for me and the dogs.
My mother doesn’t understand that I am fearless. She says things like – “that must have been scary, you must have been afraid, that must be terrifying, you must be scared of dying.”
I’ve explained that this is not the case.
She is fearful. Not me.
I’m no tough guy. Right now, I’m dealing with a chronic shoulder injury and am about to see an orthopedic surgeon for a consult.
I dread the thought of surgery and rehab. But since my shoulder is not getting better it’s time to see a professional.
I’m not afraid. I’m angry and frustrated that it’s not getting better. I’m worried about the cost. I’m dreadticipating the process of recovery.
When I think about dying, I ask myself, “Am I apathetic?”
My answer is “Yes”.
I’ve got nothing to live for and nothing to die for. That doesn’t mean that I want to die. I’m not the least bit suicidal.
But when it’s time for it to be over, I’m ready.
As I read this post, it seems kind of gloomy.
But, other than my nagging shoulder issue, I don’t feel gloomy at all.
Today I had a solid workout, a good swim and enjoyed several long autumn walks with my dogs. My body composition is pretty decent. My house has no needed repairs. My finances are in order.
I’ve got drums to play, canvasses to paint, dogs to walk and workouts to complete. My life is full and quite satisfying.
Tonight I will eat a good meal, watch some football and read a book.
I sometimes wonder if I’ll ever be driven the way I used to be. I have drive in my hobbies and activities but the meaning and purpose that came from my marriage was different. It was all consuming. It was ever-present. It gave me purpose and identity.
If I ever get this again, I suppose I’ll deal with it then.
And if not, that’s OK too. I was lucky to have it once and I have fond memories of those times.