(no subject)

I want to be pure.

Unchanged.

Untouched.

I want a past life clear of the perverse intentions of others. I want a day today clean of the strain of disease.

But life stains everyone, and certainly by my age.

"How much of it's genetics,
how much of it is Fate?
How much of it depends
on the choices that we make?
" - Infected, Repo: The Genetic Opera

This entry was originally posted at http://quirkytizzy.dreamwidth.org/1090711.html
My stepdad has shared a lot of regrets with me. I do not refuse them, because he and Mom made a lot of decisions - both together and separately-but-in-consultation - that left me far worse off in the bargain.

On the other hand... I was rather a pain in the ass, and as time went on it became increasingly clear that his own dad had been a shitty role model for the regard of children. Somehow, I don't think I got it nearly as bad as he did in his own time and place; you work with what you have.

...And of course very few of the things he ever did or said - to be counted upon the fingers of one hand - were anywhere near the degree of crap YOU were forced to put up with as a kid EVERY. DAMN. DAY.

...Which leads to one thing we can both claim: in effect, that because it did not kill us, it made us stronger.

Sometimes, the only way out is through... and because of what came before, you know you have the strength to get through this.

It's unfair as hell, and I have no pith to share that will soften THAT blow... but you KNOW. To the extent that you need faith in insubstantial things beyond your control, that's faith that your body will co-operate with your will, and that at least some of your friends and doctors will come through when you need them. While a benevolent God would be nice to have at your back, He doesn't NEED to be in the room so much as some folks might like to claim. Given your enthusiastically cynical agnosticism, that's for the best.

Finally, there is one decent thing about the exhaustion and pain and anguish: out of it comes clarity. While I grant that unfortunate courses of drugs have done you no favors lately, the fact remains that every sound, every blink of your eyes, every breath motivate you toward a clearer understanding of what's important, what's merely nice-to-have, and what's actually bullshit.

If you face any danger beyond the capacity of what you can handle, it's that the state of your body threatens to keep you from what's important. All the others are manageable, because you've already been there and done that.