I was speaking with someone today and mentioned that I had a loose plan to kill myself around my 60th birthday in the year 2031. They asked why and I told them that I had given it a lot of thought and that with the confluence of my declining physical health and the fact that I have enough money to just get by for about 10 years… It seemed logical to me. This person knows me a little and said that I had so many talents and why didn’t I find some way to earn some more money and that my physical health wasn’t bad enough to kill myself over. This person didn’t say it in a judgmental way and I thought about it the whole way home and some more tonight.
I am not one of those people who think that all life has inherent value; I never have been. I think quality of life is more important than how long someone lives. I was standing on my deck smoking and I was asking myself why I have never been afraid to die. I also found myself pondering what I am here on this earth for. I thought about my “talents” and it occurred to me that although I may be an OK writer and an OK photographer and an OK public speaker… these have never seemed like life-worth-living pursuits. Now being on love on the other hand… that’s a different story. I’ve always been willing to give my all to love and have foregone suicide a few times for love.
I found myself thinking about my relationships and how I give myself over to them 110%. In a relationship I can be a chameleon… in that I tend to end up liking things my partner does and doing things they do — even if I wasn’t interested or if it isn’t particularly healthy for me. For example, the last woman I dated, April, smoked and I had been smoke free for two years. April wasn’t interested in quitting and within a month or two I was smoking again. I’m the same way in bed… I am very willing to accommodate a wide range of bedroom activities to please my partner. That’s when I came up with the idea that I am chameleon like; reflecting back to my partners what they want or are interested in, at times to my detriment… such as when Lena asked me to move to Rivertown full time. I moved without hesitation and created the life that she said she wanted, even though living there was very detrimental to my mental health and even though living there in her “normal life” was very demeaning to me as a person.
So, now that I am single, where does that leave a chameleon? I feel like a chameleon that has been placed on a blank piece of paper… with nothing to reflect back and no goals. The psychobabblers out there will immediately say that I am co-dependent. OK. Maybe I am. So what? I am 48 years old and admit that I am a bit fucked in the head. I have been through thousands of hours of therapy and the statistical likelihood of me changing this core part of my personality at this point in life is basically zero. The greatest joys in my life have come from loving a woman 110%… Is that so bad?
