Dying is a verb. Dying is, in a way, how we get to that destination.
(Dying can also be a gerund, or an "-ing noun," but let's ignore that for now. :P)
We could get into what happens after we die, buuuuut not today. Today I'm talking about how depression affects the way some people think about death and dying.
Aren't we all essentially dying? Once we're born, it's said, we develop until about age 25. After that, we're just inching toward, you know... death. For some people, that's terrifying. Maybe it feels like a trap because we can't avoid it. It's always felt a long ways away to me.
(Artwork by Terry Fan)
If your depression is anything like my depression, death registers as a sort of longing. It's like a calling back to where I came from. Many people say they're afraid of death, but I'd say I'm more afraid of dying. Death as a state is pretty inspiring to me.
Medically, death is when one's heart and brain activity stop.
Philosophically, (citing Plato's Phaedo) death is "the separation of soul from the body."
Literature might see death as the end of one's story--although, doesn't literature as a device sort of immortalize people through their writing? That's pretty sweet to think about.
Immortality in a spiritual sense can be the survival of the nonphysical despite the physical capsule ceasing to function. If you want to bring a bit of physics into this, energy cannot be created or destroyed. Energy must be transferred and thus will never die.
Immortality scares me more than death does. I'm mostly positive that if I were blessed with mental stability, I'd love the idea of living forever. However, I can't fathom the idea of dealing with this shitshow of an existence longer than I have to. It's not that I want to die, though I wouldn't mind. It's just part of the human condition. Insert shrug emoji. What the fuck ever, you know? The people I used to talk to when I attended church regularly would ask me if I'm looking forward to living forever in God's hands. The answer (aside from my theistic indifference) was no.
No thank you.
I don't want to deal with this life longer than I have to. I also feel like in this mind, I've been scraping against the fence that stands between life and death for so long that it's not a far fall for me. My face is all torn up from staring through the gaps of that fence, backing away for a while, and smashing into it again on a pretty regular basis. Depression's exhausting. It's like a yo-yo but you're the thing tied to the string.
Why don't I just cross over that fence or knock it down? Well, I have goals and people to live for. I've acquired many great opportunities in this life. I know how to count my blessings. I'm not seeking out death, despite what it sounds like. Flowers don't seek out bumble bees. When the time comes, I'll be dressed in a white pansuit and cherry stilettos. I'll throw my shoulders back and catwalk my way into the arms of death. A literal showstopper.
Fancy fucking that, eh?
*Sexxx Dreams by Lady Gaga blasts as I make my grand departure*
