How I Quit Smoking

Ah, it's nearly spring. Sure, we have a whopper of a storm on the way yet this week, which is PROBABLY not even the St. Pat's Extravaganza we usually enjoy, but still, it's coming. I bought plants, seeds, and garden extras online today, and am planning a marvelous display of agricultural fortitude this season. Of course, I always do. Really have some cool plans to try this year, though, and maybe have chickens again. I loved it.
I was planning this charming blog entry this week, and have been thinking on what to write for two weeks. Spring is in the air, I might be in mutual like with someone, I have some money, I got to see my girls this past week...things are great. The Full Monty is over. It was a smash hit and I have been super careful about only taking the credit due me on it, but now that only three people are paying attention, I'm going to go ahead and say that I fucking rocked that shit. It was the biggest hit we've had in years, and the only show that rivaled it in attendance over the past five years was One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. And that's all I'm going to say about it.
School is fine, I'm in love with my mom all of a sudden for the first time ever, and aside from some nagging laziness that's been pulling at me whenever I have a spare minute, I've been feeling joyful and happy.
However, (and here's the deep dark twist) I very nearly died last week. I am prone to drama, as I am well aware, so let me preface this story by saying that I am not exaggerating it, and I was so scared of doing so that I asked the doctor and two nurses if I really was as bad off as I felt, and the answer was a definite, if amused, yes. I really, really, really almost died. And it was as jarring as you'd think times about a trillion.
I guess I always assumed that I would have my life flash before my eyes, cry at the injustice of it, think of all the things I hadn't done, regret a thing or two, think of my parents, think of my friends, etc. But none of that happened.
I wasn't even going to write about this because it's so goddamn upsetting everytime I think of it, but I have to tell someone, and even if no one ever reads it, at least it's said. Here's the thing...it was just a black, sad, sucking, acute, stabbing....lonliness. And had I have kicked it right then, feeling that indescribable drowning aloneness, I'd never be resting in peace. A soul can't possibly fade out like that...it's petrifying. It's not fair. I knew the EMTs that were in the ambulance, but they don't KNOW me, you know? And I couldn't breathe to cry, so I just laid there, strapped down, thinking, "This is my last breath. THIS is my last breath. THIS is my last breath" with every little gasp, and these tears were pouring out of my face and I kept looking at the two of them for some connection to stave off how singular I felt in the world at that moment, and the only thing I thought of was Dodge. Seriously. My fucking dog. And it was only for a second. The rest of it was just, "please don't let this be the last thing I feel. PLEASE." And I wasn't asking anyone in particular, no God showed up at the last minute (although I guess it wasn't REALLY my last minute) like I thought might happen, I was trying to convince myself to think of something, anything, that wasn't so lonely. But I never did. And then my oxygen normalized some, I started breathing with a little depth, and 45 minutes and 3 IVs later, I was the proper color and texture and able to stand up for xrays to find out that I had a particulary bad pneumonia that I had been ignoring.
There's more to it, but basically, I'm haunted by the lonliness thing. I've heard that it's like that before..everyone dies alone, you know? I mean, when you're born, you're coming OUT of another person, so even though it's something you technically do by yourself, you're WITH someone the whole time. But dying is different. Even if you're surrounded by people who love you, who KNOW you, who will stay with you until it's done, it's about the only thing that you absolutely do by yourself. And when that moment comes where you either fade out or decide to let go...what if that really is what it feels like?