The first night after being diagnosed is always the worst for me. My mind wants to throw up my funeral and what I will be laid out in. The last time it was my flamenco dress which I had to laugh at it was so tight i could hardly get it on for a flamenco performance I was doing. So how the undertakers were going to fit my bones in to it ......
My mind likes to give me the scenario of the hospice bed scene with me lying in state looking serene giving audiences to all my loved ones and friends.... What a lot of pretentious shite...the mind, never trust it....
I am feeling however the sadness and the anger at possibly having my life cut short. I don't fear death its just I have lots left I want to experience in life and dont want to go yet.... That's the struggle I have. It's not with death itself, that's inevitable, it's with the timing...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment