Sick

This isn't what I had planned on writing today, but sometimes I just have to go with the flow. I'm sick. There are very few things I like less in this world than being sick. I don't handle it well...I just want to go to sleep until it's over.

I've always felt that getting sick shoves my mortality in my face. Every time I'm sick, I feel like I die a little. I recover, and in some ways my body is stronger than before. But mentally, I've stared down the barrel of the gun of life. One day, something is going to claim me. Statistically speaking, it's going to be some disease or illness. Probably not this one (although this has all the signs of being a hell of a cold, if not worse, I don't think it'll be deadly), but some day, I'm going to get hit with something I'm not going to recover from.

That's not really the way I want to go out...being sick, feeling like a shit, then that's it. Of course, if I didn't feel like shit, I'm not going to want to go at all. As bad as I've felt at various points in my life, I've never felt enough physical or emotional pain that made me want to completely check out. Run away, yes. I've even thought about ending it. It's never been about ending it, though...just avoiding the pain. If something else doesn't get me first, there's a good chance that I'm come across something where the only way to avoid the pain will be to check out for good. Although I have faith that there's a God, I'm not so sure about the rest of it...certainly not sure enough to be looking forward to it.

This one doesn't appear to 'The One', though. So, cold meds and NyQuil until I recover...physically, anyway.