Guest post by Ivy Scherbarth. Ivy is a Colorado/Wyoming FACES Coordinator for PPMD and mom to Hazel, age 8, and Rain, age 6. Rain has Duchenne muscular dystrophy. Follow Ivy at her blog, Living Duchenne.
On Being Diurnal
Originally published on www.LivingDuchenne.com on April 6, 2010
It often happens that I am gripped by overwhelming Existential Angst in the late evening, usually around 11pm, although last night it was more like 9:30. I must be getting old.
You're saying to yourself, "But I thought that Existential Angst was something that you get over once you're old, like pimples and other teenage afflictions."
"Ha!," replies the Teenage Affliction Fairy.
As I was saying, I suffer from frequent bouts of Existential Angst. Not so much of the Why Are We Here variety, more of the O the Pain and Suffering Amidst the Joy variety. I am struck by a kind of awful Preemptive Grief. A Horror of the Pain to Come. You see, I'm so terribly happy at times that the very experience of joy rolls over suddenly to show its dark and creepy underbelly: Fear of Inevitable Loss. Even under perfect circumstances, we will all, indeed, lose everything-- home, love, family, comfort, life and self. How can we go on knowing that all, all is Doom!?
And then, I wake up in the morning. And all is not lost, yet. We have all that we need, all that we have worked so hard to build. It is all so solid, so stable, so real, again, despite the terror of ephemeralism, revealed by the night .... In the morning, under the radiance and warmth of the sun, in the brightness and hope of day, Life is Worth Living, whatever its form. It is a grand and amazing thing to choose to live, to choose to go on, to choose the possibility of a future for coming generations. In the morning, it is somehow all right that we live and we die, that pain is just a part of it all and that that is both necessary and acceptable.
Some people think I should go to bed earlier.