Mrs. chi and I have a low tolerance for suffering, and there are many scenarios which could make life here untenable . We are prepared, if the spit hits the fan. Not to hole up and live like post-apocalyptic hooligans, but to simply check out of this world before the spit gets all over us.
Some people will tell you it's a horrible thing to take your own life , that it will...
complicate things on the other side. But nobody knows everything, and I heard from somebody who heard from somebody on the other side that said "it's no big deal" . So, we don't find society's and biology's desperate clinging to life to be some kind of sacred obligation.
There's no rule book here , except ones you let someone else make up for you, but why do that. I feel we have the sovereign right to live and die as we please, so we are prepared to make that choice when the time comes. Tell you what: I don't want to hang on until I'm a vegetable, unable to wipe my own butt, and I'm sure not going to be anyone's caretaker, doing that.
It's quite enough trouble to do the day to day, with a body that needs PT , needs to work and play .
But am I looking forward to death ?
Sometimes yes, sometimes no. Lately, I've become more willing expedite the inevitable; more accepting that there isn't anything holding me here. No great Undone Thing (okay, I do need to goof around online less, and write about work) . I would dearly love to hold little Zeus in my arms again, and let him lick my face, and I would lick his all over too, I imagine. If that part's true, then my answer is "yes, and the sooner the better" . But if nothing too ugly happens, I'm willing to wait until whenever, but I don't want to be a burden, and I insist on quality of life . The choice and ability to leave, though, is mine , and not that of some idiot in a hospital, sucking finances like a vampire for the corporation and forcing my body to stay alive .
Poopy on that
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