Feeling a Bit Out of Sorts

I awoke this morning feeling sad and not quite right.  I didn't feel depressed, and I don't feel that way now, but I felt right on the brink of depressed, that time when you feel grateful enough to have joy in your heart but are also in a place of deep contemplation and a little bit of fear (okay, maybe more than a little bit of fear).  Death has been so close lately, and it's really been getting to me. 


Years ago, after my Dad died suddenly, I developed a deep seated fear of losing people.  If my brother forgot to call me after he drove home from my house at night, I'd panic that he'd been in a terrible accident.  If a boyfriend came home late (especially if he'd been traveling on his motorcycle) I'd fly into a panic.  If I passed an accident on the highway, a pit of ice would form into my gut and refuse to melt until I'd passed the scene and ascertained that no one I knew was involved.  I was never able to relax completely into the wonderful moments of life because I lived in constant fear that "the other shoe" would drop, once again destroying my world as I knew it.  Some version of this fear has followed me for many years, only subsiding over the past few, as I've dealt with my father's passing through meditation and prayer and grown deeper into the spiritual path of my choosing.  Over these past few days, however, the fear has crept back into my heart, and since quieting it has proven fruitless I'm searching for ways to deal with it before it spirals out of control again.

Lots of things have happened recently to reignite the flames of this old post traumatic stress bonfire.  A friend was in a bad motorcycle accident that mirrored my father's accident in so many ways that it's scary.  He is still in a coma, having lived with his injuries longer than my own Dad did, and the outcome is still uncertain.  I keep hoping and praying that he'll wake up and be, at the very least, mostly able to recover fully (though fully recovering would certainly be the very best outcome, of course).  I don't want to watch his family go through losing him the way we lost our Dad; to have gone through this situation and then watch another family go through almost the exact same thing is surreal, on some level.   Another man who I've known for quite some time recently passed away after a long illness, and a friend who has been through many ups and downs of life with me was diagnosed with cancer not long ago.  He is fighting valiantly, but I feel so afraid for him.  He's around my husband's age, still a young guy, and the prognosis is hopeful but things could go either way for him.  Then, just today, I found out that an uncle of mine is ill.  I'm still not sure what's going on with him-my cousin wrote a brief post on Facebook- but I have the distinct feeling it isn't good.  As I tend to be very empathic when it comes to my family, one of the reasons for my feelings of intense sadness this morning might be linked to this situation.  

Because I live a spiritual as well as a physical life, I believe that something exists beyond our earthly existence.  I'm not one hundred percent sure of this, or of what actually happens, but I do believe our spirits continue onward, crossing the veil of death and possibly going through the process of reincarnation for a time.  Different religions have different ideas about this, and I've been introduced to many of these ideas, and they do provide me with some modicum of comfort when someone dies or I begin to contemplate my own demise.  This does little to assuage the sadness I feel over losing someone I love, however. The part of me who, at times, doubts the existence of a supreme creator or just plain loves someone and misses him or her terribly experiences a great torment of the soul when someone I care about passes over.  Sometimes, it feels as though death is looming over us all, just waiting for that perfect moment to snatch us up and devastate everyone around us.

I don't mean to be morbid or depressing tonight.  I'm spilling ideas onto the computer screen, trying to sort out my own jumbled thoughts, hoping that tomorrow when I wake up I'll feel more positive and sunny.  Right here, in this moment though, I feel like a black cloud is hanging over the earth and I'm trying to dodge it's ominous shadow with everyone I love tucked in close, attempting to accomplish the same task.