I have seen enough in this lifetime to know that when the time comes to leave this world, I will not fight leaving it. It’s been a rough life with me feeling like I was usually going from fire to fire putting out flames. I did it for others. I did it for those I loved and cared about. Once in awhile, I did it for myself.
I was born to a woman who had been crippled by polio at age 3. When I was age 3, my mother decided she’d had all she wanted from my father and left him. Back then divorce wasn’t accepted like it is today. So I became the daughter with no father and a crippled mother. Truth be told, she was probably an alcoholic.
I went through school, got married to escape the hell of a home I grew up in, and then got surprised when my “wonderful” husband comforted a woman whose husband was over in Vietnam. I got my own divorce.
Later I began dating a guy who had gone to college and hadn’t finished, but was taking a correspondence course to help him get back in. I studied the book with him and realized college wasn’t as hard as I’d assumed. I sent off my own application and request for financial aid and soon after found myself enrolled in college.
Things were rocky at times at that school and I left it glad to finally be out of there. It would take another year to find the job my degree prepared me for. I’d worked all four years of college at ECU News Bureau and met very nice people there who taught me what it felt like to have love and support.
Fast forward to five years later and I married the worst man in the world. I didn’t know it at the time because I was still learning as I went and didn’t recognize the red flags that became so apparent later when I was trying to leave him.
Out of that marriage came three children. I found myself alone raising them and trying to make ends meet and yet again, I faced problems and torments that were caused by a sister and niece I no longer speak to. Was my whole family evil? Was there any hope in this world? I’d look at the faces of my children and know there was and I’d keep on keeping on.
The kids grew up. They got education and degrees and began to make their ways into the world.
The world. That’s what this blog was to be about. When it first came to me in the kitchen, when I was fixing chicken and rice for my dogs, one of whom has been a little under the weather, I realized that for the most part, I am done with this world. When the time comes to exit, I will not “rage against the dying light”, but will instead try to “go gentle into that good night” which is the opposite of what Dylan Thomas wrote in his poem “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night”.
For any mental health professional s who reads this, I am neither suicidal nor homicidal, but simply understanding of what this life is like and when it’s time to check out, I’m ready to go. God will be choosing the time, but I will not fight it when he does.