I’ve faced quite a few fears over the years, and find myself much altered from the woman I was in my 30’s and 40’s. I encountered and caused loves gain and loss, and more recently lives of those around me and I’m painfully conscious of how often I’ve repeated mistakes. This sometimes manifests as free floating anxiety, and alone, or coupled with bouts of depression, has gradually mounted in severity over the years. When I’m deep into it everything looks dark, bleak and hopeless, and the self loathing pounces on me. But I’ve also learned that this is what it is, and have strategies to address the situation. So I don’t fear it, but I don’t take it for granted either.
In my day to day life I’ve experienced hard work and times of considerable frivolous indolence and self indulgence. Consequently I have rarely worried too much about money and living, except when something unexpected happens, like my previous relationship break up, and my subsequent choice to take on the caring role for Mum. I am however, far more conscious of how the world is changing and how hard it is financially for my younger friends including CM and Sara.
I’m starting to think more about how my daughter, grandchildren and those close friends I love will cope if I drop of the twig any time in the next ten years. Regular readers will be familiar with my concerns over CM’s depression last winter. I wonder if finally I am gaining a sense of responsibility.
Things I took for granted way back when – like time to fix mistakes and have new adventures now have a sense of advancing use by dates. This feeling underpinned my recent travels, and while I’m struggling to sort out my day to day life since I returned, due to some unresolved mental health matters, part of me has the bug and is itching to travel again. At the same time I am trying to sort out where I will live – presumably for the rest of my life. I love the Oasis, but the summer heat is fierce up there. And my main house was really set up for Mum’s final years. It is a drain on my finances, not suitable for my art making and the traffic and anti-social behaviour has increased. At this stage no easy solution presents itself, but I am well aware of how privileged I am anyway. I do have a little time up my sleeve so I’m trying not to panic.
Being the control freak that I am one thing I am afraid of is losing physical and mental capacities. I’m not afraid of pain as such – I’ve had enough procedures and operations to know how I cope with that. However having watched Mum and then her sister go through Dementia, and experiencing minor chronic pain and loss of strength often associated with aging, as well as the mental health debilities I am currently wading through I do fear losing my capacity for independence. And while my daughter has offered to set up a “granny flat” at her house its about the last thing I’d contemplate.
I like to be naked or semi clothed and struggle to hide my sex toys from the grandkids when they visit now. And while CM and I have our companionate relationship, neither of us are adverse to me pursuing an active sex or kink lifestyle with other people once I’m more settled. I see no reason at this stage to forgo an active sex life of some sort until the day I die, and anything that hinders that is off the table as far as I’m concerned.
Apart from sex I want the ability to choose my own time of departure from this life, but again I fear my daughter and my friend Sara will strongly oppose that. (CM and I are in accord here). Despite this I am intending to gain as much information on this choice, my blog, after all is about Sex, Creativity and Death, and there are a number of things I still intend to follow up on, including attending Death Cafe’s, and talking to like minded people.
Finally I fear the wastelands we are creating on this beautiful planet of ours, and I fear there is no easy solution. Terms like Zombie Apocalypse are not unfamiliar in my family circle, but I try to do what I can while not dwelling on the future my grandkids will encounter. Having been a political animal my entire life it feels a bit odd that I’m blogging about sex and creativity at this juncture rather than lining up behind the obvious barricades. But we’ve all encountered the thin edge of Internet wedge, and in the absence of any clear (to me) direction, this seems as good a place as any to make a stand.