On Death

Death is a funny thing. Not necessarily funny in a “Ha ha” kind of way, but funny in the way it approaches you.

You grow up knowing that you’re getting older. How can we not? As soon as we’re old enough to count backwards we’re counting down the days until we’re one year older. Eventually, those countdowns stop, but at what point is different for every person. It was only a couple years ago when I personally stopped caring about how old I was soon going to be.

I have found that there comes a point where you stop counting down to how old you’re going to be and start adding up how many days you’ve had to enjoy life. It may sound a little morbid, but for me, it was when my Grandma passed away a month ago. It was sudden, it was hard, and it still is.

We were told that she had 3 to 6 months to live, but she only lived for about 2 more weeks past that prognosis. See, you can countdown as much as you like, but sometimes life has a funny way of throwing a wrench into things.

Sometimes I forget that people, animals, myself … You only get older. I’m struggling with the acceptance of this, especially since my mom had to put our dog down because of cancer in the fall. I always forget that when you have a pet, chances are that they’re going to die before you do. When Tanner passed in the fall, it was the first time I had really felt grief. Before that, it was when my great-grandma passed away a few years ago, but it never hit me as hard.

But now, with Daphne starting to show signs of her progressing age, it’s getting tough again. I’m constantly worried that I’m going to wake up one morning and she won’t be able to move at all, and I’ll have to say goodbye once again to something I love so much.

Saying goodbye because of death is the hardest thing I think anyone has to do. You can’t avoid death, and you can’t countdown to it. Death works in its own, mysterious ways. I choose not to think that death and the way we die is part of some higher being’s plan. I don’t believe it should be in anyone’s plan to make people’s emotions ache and hurt so badly.

For me, I’ve learned that it’s okay to hate death, but I have to remember that its inevitable. You can’t avoid it, but when it comes, it’s okay to be sad, mad, and angry at it. I don’t know when I’ll fully heal and accept that death has taken those I loved away from me, but with each day, it gets a little easier to cope with.

I’m lucky enough to be surrounded by a supportive family that understands that it’s hard for me to deal with it some days, and when I bust out into tears they don’t judge me, but just love me.

One day I’ll learn not to hate death so much, and to accept it as part of the natural way of life. For now, I’m just going to try to understand it.

How do you deal or cope with death?

Sorry for the somewhat dark nature of this post, but it’s just been on my mind for a while and I needed to get it out.

Battling the Enemy

As a woman, I am cursed with society’s view on body hair – Shave your legs, shave your armpits, pluck your eyebrows! Luckily, those things are easy to maintain. They take all of five minutes to do and very rarely are you ever teased about them. Unless, of course, you like your uni-brow and let it grow wild. Anyway…

I am also cursed with lovely upper lip hair. It’s not that thick, and it’s not that dark, but it’s there, and I notice it, and it bothers me. A lot. Growing up, I was teased quite often about it. Yep, Kara’s a boy. Yep, Kara has a moustash. “Moustashio” I was once called. It hurt. A lot. No one likes to be teased, especially about something that you can’t help at the age of seven.

Come high school, I would use Nair to remove it, but I would always burn my skin and it would leave dry patchy rashes.. I tried having it waxed, but that would cause me to break out. Add that to the redness, and it almost made it worse. I eventually gave up and just tried to deal with it. Until today.

Today I went to a local laser treatment clinic, where they do everything from Botox to microdermabrasion. I made an appointment for laser hair removal last week and at 9:30 this morning, I began my treatments to get rid of my horrible upper lip hair once and for all.

Let me tell you – It hurt like hell! There’s still redness from the procedure, but if I don’t break out with little zits and it doesn’t burn up my skin, I’ll deal with it every 6-8 weeks. The technician who did the procedure was super nice and made me feel comfortable about everything, not embarrassed.

I know I should love myself for who I am, and I do, but sometimes you just have to do things that help your insecurities. I look forward to being able to stand in front of someone and have a conversation without wondering if they’re staring at that space between my lip and nose.

And let me tell you this – It took a lot for me to share this with you guys. In real life, only Kyle and my mom know I’m doing this. That’s how self conscious I am about it all.