Thursday, January 12, 2012

What Would I Do If I Was Dying?

A lot of things stress me out.

Like, but not limited to: the idea of getting less than 8 hours of sleep, auditions, not being in control of my food, logistics of any kind- like: getting out of the way of a cash register while putting my money back in my wallet fast enough (I normally throw the coins in my bag willy-nilly) or figuring out how to unload a car full of ski supplies while my mom finds parking at the ski mountain place- I have to pee and also there is no cell reception and why is it 60 degrees!?!

Also, rushing, going slowly, watching my tv shows with any distractions, speaking on the telephone, listening to voicemails, talking to retail personnel at stores and especially at the farmer's market (sigh) and being too big for my bras (this is a specific issue that few may relate to, but it may top the stressor list).... But, as you can see, I am stressed by a lot of stupid things.

Something that does not stress me out, is the idea of my own mortality. I discuss with myself all the time that I am not afraid of dying during brain conversations. Let's be honest- it would be a load off my back if I died. Or knew I was going to die young/soon. Not that I want to experience the pain of death.... I don't. But the actual dead part, I assume, will be awesome.

The point is... I am not afraid of death, and I am not particularly afraid of being punished by God because... I'm just not, ok? Unless they are actually right, in which case.... Oh Dear.

But really. I am not afraid to die. I am really afraid of being alive, but I am not afraid of dying. I would not like to be alive for a long time with bad health. So I fear bad health, but I do not fear death. And I am never afraid that I am dying. Mostly because ... I'm not, its a wasted fear, and also if I were dying it would mean all my troubles were soon over anyway.

Granted, I am not a mother. I have no dependents. I am currently free to die as I will and no one will be greatly harmed except my parents wishing they didn't waste all that money on me. This does not make me sad! (Except that I am wasting time and money). I know people will attend my funeral! I will have friends who say: Oh, God, I can't believe Caroline exploded in that factory fire! or Oh, God, I can't believe Caroline took a bullet to the head on her first hunting outing! or Oh, God, We are all so fragile, I can't believe Caroline died of a heart attack. She said she ate healthfully!? 

Yes, people will be shocked. Maybe miss me a bit. They may wonder what I would have ended up contributing to the world if gotten to hang around longer (I would have sung at a couple dozen more funerals). But they will move on! I KNOW IT.

(At my funeral I do not want a cantor. I want a fiddle playing happy music. But I'll be dead, so I actually don't really care.)

All these thoughts came to me tonight when I had the magnified side of the face mirror shining my pores back at me. I noticed this bump on my cheek that has been there for a few months. I always thought it was a zit, but it never went away. Tonight I tried to operate on it with some tweezers, and it did not go well. So, I decided it is some kind of boil or mole or cancer. It was just a list of possibilities. It didn't stress me out because- 1) I actually don't truly believe it is cancer of the face. 2) And even if it was, they cut cancer of the face out of many old people. 3) And also, I pretty much believe in the power of mind over matter- meaning- if it was cancer of the face I could probably think it away with positivity or something.

But then I thought: Caroline, but what would you do, if the doctor (you will never go to) told you- "Caroline, I am sorry to tell you, you have cancer of the face, have you ever heard of it before? No? It is very rare and you will be dead in 3 months.

In an attempt to jolt myself into some sort of zen and celebratory "live like you were dying" lifestyle, I tried to imagine it. I tried to imagine myself faced with my own imminent death. And I couldn't! I literally couldn't imagine it!  I am not even afraid of it and I can't imagine a scenario in which I could believe my own death was truly coming. The only time I ever have been able to before was this one vivid dream where I was being sent to the gallows (THAT was no fun).

But in this scenario, my imagination eluded me. The most upset I got was the idea that Face Cancer would make me disfigured for my remaining days. And, because I want to be able to see people and discuss miscellaneous things with them while actually looking like myself. That is the most important thing. And I also had the thought that maybe in my last months I would spend all my money on better bras and all the boots that exist.

But really. If I was dying. I would ... go out and socialize more and watch more TV comedies alone. Conundrum. I think I would research health topics less, because it wouldn't care. Unless I was trying to cure myself.... Oh its so hard to say! I would probably get over my fear of phone talking so I could contact people and let them know the deal- and I'd definitely be less scared of auditions, but let's be honest, I'd still never go on any!

All this being said, buck up because it really could be the end for you, too. This is 2012. We could all go out in a Dinosaur extinction. Or in a world explosion.

OMG I just got distracted, flipped to the Youtube tab and watched the 30 Rock promo with Tina and Alec talking about Thursday Night NBC comedy and they said the same thing about the world ending! Literally! Right after I wrote that! "Possibly the last comedies that we as a culture will witness together". And it ended with "Go out Laughing". This is a sign. I am dying! And I don't care!