Are you afraid to die?

It's a question my Blue friend asked his followers on his blog and a question I've been toying with for the last couple of weeks. "How close can two minds be?" I asked my Blue friend on his blog, because he wrote about the same topic I've wanted to write about for weeks. In fact, he was the first human being who told me he was afraid to die. Never before in my life had someone told me that (s)he was afraid to die. I'd been confronted with death many times before in my life. Not only in my family, but also among friends. Suicides, especially, but also one case of cancer. And when I was talking with my Blue friend about death, I told him honestly that I wasn't afraid to die. What's more, I wanted to die at that moment, I wanted it so badly! I was suicidal back then, oh yes.

Somehow, my Blue friend made me look at life and death more closely and more carefully. I thought about it more intensely, but back then, I still wasn't afraid to die. I was afraid of death, but in another sense. I was afraid that other people around me would die first, and that I would be left all alone. I was/am especially afraid that my parents would/will die one day - which is a fact - and that I'll be left all alone. I don't have a boyfriend, and I'm not planning to go back on the promise I made myself: no more suffering, so no more boyfriends, no marriage, no children. Eventually, I will be all alone. And that's something I can't bear. 

Last year, when my granny was so ill, I just couldn't believe she would die. And she didn't. However, I can guarantee that almost the entire family predicted her death. I just couldn't. Maybe I was stubborn. Or maybe it was my irrevocable faith in our Lord. Whatever it was that withheld me from believing she would die, it worked. She survived three necessary emergency operations and I believe her when she tells - albeit laughing - that there was someone over there who told her to go back, that they didn't want her up there. She's so strong, and I'm so proud that she's my granny!

Anyway, let's get back to business. Am I afraid to die? I wasn't, but things have changed slightly since I wrote that post in which I realised we only live once. That's when things started to change. Also, I'm getting older. I can't believe I'm 31 already, but it's the naked truth. I see my nieces grow up, and it goes terribly fast. The oldest one is almost 10! What if I died? I would no longer see them grow up. I would miss my parents, my grandparents, my aunts and uncles, cousins, my nieces. So I think I don't want to die anymore - which seems quite good and healthy to me - but at the same time I can't bear the thought that this also means that I will have to be strong when all the others around me die and I will be... yes, all alone. For this thing is for sure: if everyone dies when his/her time has come - I mean, if everyone goes in the order of age - then I will have to say goodbye to my grandparents first, then a couple of aunts and uncles, then my parents, then more aunts and uncles, then my sister and a few cousins. At my father's side, I'm nearly the youngest. At my mother's side, I'm the third grandchild out of 10. However, every single one of them on both sides is settled: they all have boyfriends and girlfriends, I'm the only one left single. I don't really mind, but I can imagine that in my old age, I will. 

I'll have to make up my mind one day. However, it's not easy. If I had a family of my own, I'd have something to live for. Now, there's "only" Timo, which has resulted to be enough when I look back at my latest admission to the psychiatric clinic here in Leiden. Timo turned out to be sufficient for me when it came to wanting to fight to go back home. But Timo doesn't have eternal life. Between now and seven years - give or take a few - he'll certainly be gone, and... Can I tell you a secret? After Chico died I thought I'd never have that kind of budgy anymore. I mean, he was always happy, always playing around, always talkative and so intelligent. And then came Timo. Timo broke all the records. He's spent a year with me so far, and he's even - I hardly dare to say it - better than his beloved brother. He's able to utter 23 words and sentences whilst only having spent one year with me. It's a miracle God has blessed me with. I can hardly believe it! He's even more of a "playboy" than his beloved brother. You should see him now... Well, I can try to make a movie :)

Do you see what I mean? And that's inside his cage! Outside, he's even more of a "playboy"! He's so happy that he can sometimes make my mood turn upside down when I'm feeling bad. He's so special to me, I can't imagine life without him, but one day, he'll also be gone. Hopefully, that day is still far away, and we can move out of the Pelikaanhof together and move into our new apartment where he'll even have more space to fly as a free bird. 

Still, the question remains. Afraid to die or not? I'm certainly afraid to die a painful death. That's in fact always been the case. I'm always afraid when I'm walking alone in the dark in the city that someone will rape me or stab me to death or shoot me. I don't want to die like that! Also, I'm afraid to die of cancer. It's not really a common illness in our family, but still... with Debz, you never know. Also, I'm afraid that, if I don't die young - something I've been planning to do for some years right now - I'll have dementia or Alzheimer's disease when I'm older, illnesses that ARE common in our family. I've seen and I see it happen to my loved ones, and I feel helpless. There's nothing you can do. And with this cocktail of meds I'm taking, it may well be that I attract Alzheimer's disease at a young age. And if there's something I don't want, it's certainly that: not even recognizing the people you love, not even realizing who you are and what you're doing on this planet Earth. THAT's what I'm afraid of, my Blue friend. Not of dying. Death will only bring me to Heaven, to my Father. It's just the way how you get there. You see, already right now I have these moments in which I easily forget where I've put my stuff or what I've done a couple of hours ago, and I know everybody has these moments, but it happens more and more often. It may well be a side effect of the meds, but... you hear of those cases of Alzheimer's disease at the age of forty, and that makes me scared to death! I'm 31, you know, and I'm getting closer and closer to the age of 40. 

So, to wrap it up a little bit, I might be afraid to die, but this has to do with the way in which I'll die. If I could choose how I'd die, then I'm not afraid. I'd be afraid if the cause would be cancer, if I'd be murdered, or if I'd drown or suffocate to death. I AM afraid to attract such an irrevocable disease such as Alzheimer's. Cancer is also high on the NOT-to-attract list. In the meantime, I think I'll just try to enjoy my life. There's still so much to do, but worries cloud my mind. Worries about finding a job, worries about how to pay the bills once I move out of my student's room and move into my apartment. Worries about my grandparent's health, about my parents getting older, about the amount of meds I'm taking and about myself being on the border of mental instability once again. It's a lot to take in, I know, but in my head there's a lot going on. Please, if possible, pray for me. I can surely use it to be in someone's thoughts and prayers. And, my dear Blue friend, if you pass by and you read this, I can tell you this: I'm still not afraid to die, but it's not like back then anymore. I'm not suicidal anymore (praise the Lord!), but if I could choose, I'd die relatively young, before all the pains and aches begin, and especially, before such illnesses such as dementia or Alzheimer's can take over. 

And now I'm off to McDonald's. Life is short, and I surely can use an Iced Frappé :)