Bitch on the Blog

March 8, 2017

Forever

This post is not pleasant. I am going to make an observation and don’t expect any of you to answer, if at all, truthfully.

Do you wish/have you ever wished anyone would just die? Not because you bear them ill will, just because you’d like to tick a box (make that a coffin), breathe a sigh of relief and be done with that person?

Can’t believe I am writing this but there it is.

U

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25 Comments »

  1. Yes…. and breathed a sigh of relief when it happened….

    Comment by magpie11 — March 8, 2017 @ 22:36 | Reply

    • I knew right from the start it’d be good to know you. Always on the level, never to shirk an issue …

      Considering that death (particularly that of others) is still not exactly the most welcome topic in emotionally hampered company, rarely have I felt more daring than venting a dark thought of mine in full public view.

      I sometimes wonder (and such is my anguish), and the more I expand on this the worse it gets, whether I’ll be suitably aggrieved at one particular grave side when the time comes. Anyway, I am sure I’ll have many a year to look forward to the occasion by which time I’ll be too exhausted to rejoice.

      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — March 8, 2017 @ 22:55 | Reply

  2. I used to wish for something heavy to fall on top of this person, I also wished thatthey would survive the impact so they would know I walked away without helping.
    I don’t wish that for that person any more but I stand behind my sentiments of the time

    Comment by Kylie — March 8, 2017 @ 22:46 | Reply

    • My dear Kylie, you? You of all people? If that doesn’t reassure me that I am not depraved little will.

      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — March 8, 2017 @ 23:04 | Reply

  3. Yes, and it was a relief when it finally came. In two of the instances, it was when they were unconscious and lingering with absolutely no chance of recovery. On the other, I felt guilty about being relieved, but I got over it.

    Comment by Mike — March 9, 2017 @ 00:27 | Reply

    • Of course, wishing those “lingering with no chance of recovery” a speedy end is sanctioned by society. And that’s good. Though to get me to agree to switch off my son’s life support should the unimaginable happen will be some feat. Even just imagining it makes me want to howl. It’s a classic example of rational vs emotions.

      The third example you gave, the one my post was referring to, II dare say is one we generally keep to ourselves. Thanks for being so forthright, Mike. I am glad you “got over it” [guilt]. I don’t even feel guilt – it’s just factual. It’s a serious, and selfish case, of getting a thorn out of my life. Perversely, I actually like that person, with no nefarious thoughts on my mind if only they were able to tweak some truly not so good aspects of the way they communicate. When speaking to the person concerned I do come away, not always, but too many times, exhausted. Kaput. Considering that this particular individual is quite advanced in years I forgive myself for wishing them to hasten the inevitable exit. Come to think of it, and my life is full of ironies – it’d be too funny for words if I exited BEFORE the culprit. Stranger things have happened. I am not a vengeful person but in that scenario I wouldn’t put it beyond me to rise from the grave or – more likely – just be happy it’s all over and stay put. Someone has to make the first move.

      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — March 12, 2017 @ 14:02 | Reply

      • Ironically, in both instances of lingering, it was my wife’s parents. Her father had complications associated with kidney dialysis in 1993. He lapsed into unconsciousness and, over a period of days, his body started shutting down. Karen is the 3rd oldest of 12, with 11 surviving in 1993. Her mother, siblings, their spouses, and the adult grandchildren all agreed that he should be taken off of life support. I can still remember the doctor coming into the room and talking about it. He seemed surprised and appreciative that there was not a bit of disagreement. A couple of years ago, Karen’s mom had a stroke at the assisted living center where she lived. She never regained consciousness. Again, the 10 surviving siblings, their spouses (for those who were still married) and all of the adult grandchildren and great-grandchildren who were agreed that she should be taken off life support. She was moved to a hospice facility and died less than 24 hours later. A few years earlier, one of the siblings had been moved into a hospice facility due to incurable cancer, but died shortly afterward. His was not a lingering death.

        Comment by Mike — March 12, 2017 @ 14:28 | Reply

  4. I agree with Mike, when my Dear Beloved Dad lay dying in Hospice and we knew he was actively in the process of Dying… seconds seemed like hours and days like an eternity just watching him slip away and just wondering when it would happen… it extended Grief and anguish to the point where when it happened, I was not only relieved he was no longer suffering, but that we too could have the relief of knowing finally it was over. There is some Guilt with that of coarse and you desperately would give anything to have them back, if only for a tiny while… here on this side of Time and Eternity… the Selfish side of me wished they could have lingered longer, the Loving side was able to let them go and mourn the terrible Loss and void it left behind. But as for wishing someone healthy would just die, no, I wouldn’t and couldn’t, it would be tough if someone was that awful that a Wish like that would cross the Mind to be rid of them in that way. Dawn… The Bohemian

    Comment by Bohemian Valhalla — March 9, 2017 @ 03:02 | Reply

    • I am sorry to hear about your father and, more pertinently, how you miss him. Yes, being able to let go – my holy grail. My first mega loss hit me when I was eight years old. A rug was pulled from underneath my feet. To this day the 18th of February is a day I’d rather had never happened.

      As to the latter part of your reply please do see mine to Mike.

      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — March 12, 2017 @ 14:07 | Reply

  5. Yes I did. I was exhausted from dealing with him. And always guilty.

    I like how you throw light into the dark corners of the human psyche.

    XO
    WWW

    Comment by wisewebwoman — March 9, 2017 @ 04:09 | Reply

    • You too don’t shirk difficult issues, my dear WWW. They don’t make for “pleasant” conversation over afternoon tea and dainty cucumber sandwiches. Yet the more we point the light of our mind’s torches to what is really important, what really moves us, the better, the brighter. Not necessarily because we’ll be enlightened and find an answer but because, at least, we acknowledge the question.

      Hope all is well with you,

      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — March 12, 2017 @ 14:15 | Reply

  6. No. OK, I will admit to something: I was hoping that Matt Damon would be left on Mars in the movie The Martian. Other than that I cannot wish ill on anyone.

    Comment by Looney — March 9, 2017 @ 04:45 | Reply

    • Matt Damon means nothing to me, not even sure who he is – so you and your movie watching are on your own

      I specifically said that I do NOT wish the person who set me on my post’s train of thought any “ill”. Not at all. One might even say I wish them quite the opposite. If only … please do see my reply to Mike’s comment.

      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — March 12, 2017 @ 14:19 | Reply

  7. But of course I have, but I suspect, not for the reasons that you intend to convey. My late father had to go, hospitals were not willing to admit him as his end was near. I had hired round the clock nursing care for him but he developed bed sores and began to hallucinate. That was when I wished that he died to save him further trouble and embarrassment. He obliged.

    Comment by rummuser — March 9, 2017 @ 13:36 | Reply

    • As I was writing my post I was thinking of you, my dear Ramana. What you went through, and I have seen this with other friends with very much elderly parents, has potential to bring anyone to breaking point. Not least because the life that is heading to (more or less imminent) exit does have such enormous potential to blight the short span of our own and younger lives. Whilst I care very much I have never been – and don’t expect to be in its most extreme form – a “carer”. So, that was, as you suspected, not what I was writing about – and therefore, by its own token, what makes that dark thought so very uncomfortable.

      Having said the above (namely the “caring” part) I’d be perfectly happy to wipe, nay, polish the top of your well shaped head in times of heat and distress. I’d even hold your hand. And fetch for you. And I am not even a dog – now there is a bonus. Which reminds me: Came across a hilarious rendition of “Singing in the Rain”. Remember our “outrageous” flirtation some years back – and Jean asking for a photo if and when we accomplish our not so mean feat? And a feat it is, never mind our actual feet.

      Hug,
      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — March 12, 2017 @ 14:34 | Reply

  8. Indeed I have, but not people who bugged me, and who I was able to leave behind fairly quickly. Only people whose quality of life seems to have deteriorated to the point that death would be a welcome relief.

    Comment by nick — March 10, 2017 @ 09:31 | Reply

    • The reason I harbour a not to be recommended thought, dear Saint Nick, is not because someone “bugs” me. I am not that easily ruffled. People can bug me till they wish they’d never started – my pleasure.

      For enlightenment you may wish to read my replies to those who came before you in the comment boxes. In the meantime I shall amuse myself by ruminating on that piece of straw that breaks a camel’s back.

      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — March 12, 2017 @ 14:40 | Reply

  9. Yes. I felt really guilty about it, but my brother-in-law died quite suddenly about nine months ago. I kept thinking, in spite of myself, of all of the other people I would rather have die. My BIL was just an amazing guy, I loved him, he added so much to all of our lives. Why couldn’t it have been ____? I was really angry it wasn’t one of two or three other people who seemed to deserve to die. (Hope to god no one in my family reads your blog! But you know, some of them were thinking it, too. I know they were.)

    Comment by Shoshanah — March 12, 2017 @ 23:46 | Reply

    • The scenario you describe I haven’t experienced myself but quite a few people in my vicinity have either freely admitted they wish someone else had bitten the dust, others’ hints were as obvious as if they’d said it out loud. Another twist along the lines you are coming from is when a sibling dies and the surviving wonder/s if their parents hadn’t preferred them to die. I imagine that thought/suspicion quite torturous – and, of course, it’s not a question you can ask your parents without causing even more grief and heartache (to the parents).

      I am very sorry to hear about your brother-in-law. One can’t even wail “life is so unfair” because life just is, indiscriminate, random. It may sound a little twee even trite, yet there is some truth in the saying that the best are often taken from us rather prematurely. Or maybe it’s just that we notice the absence of the “best” more keenly. The only piece of comfort I can offer that he was a lucky man to have touched so many lives in such a good way, and that you had the privilege to know him.

      Big hug,
      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — March 14, 2017 @ 17:54 | Reply

      • Yes, that’s the saying, isn’t it? The good die young. It is random. The up side is that it really makes me appreciate all of the good people we have left to us, still here on Earth.

        Comment by Shoshanah — March 18, 2017 @ 23:34 | Reply

  10. Twice – once was a relief whenn it happened and I willmake no further comment on the second.

    Comment by Chuck McConvey — March 13, 2017 @ 22:23 | Reply

  11. hi, i’m regretting my comment, could you delete it? thx

    Comment by Liz — March 19, 2017 @ 09:55 | Reply

    • Liz, I don’t know who you are, neither does anyone else on this blog (apart from you). Don’t feel self conscious. Having said that, I sometimes do too [feel self conscious], not least when I mention the unspeakable or what I deem (after the event) revealing too much of myself. Oh the shame of it! Still. best policy in life to stand by yourself – as painful as it may be at times.

      I have deleted your comment – as short, concise as it was. Hope to hear from you again.

      From one human being to another – take care, take heart,
      Ursula

      Comment by bitchontheblog — March 19, 2017 @ 12:38 | Reply

  12. thanks, Ursula. my comment is still there though…

    Comment by Liz — March 20, 2017 @ 08:10 | Reply


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