Right? I’m afraid of my body giving out, and being a perfectly healthy mind trapped in an immobile flesh prison, unable to do anything but wait for the release of death.
Right!? Even mind failing! Everything. And death, forever, I’m barely handling this. It’s gonna happen, but I have a f. heart condition so it’s for sure gonna happen sooner than for everyone else. I had a friend with an aneurism was not much more than a vegetable for three year. Just insane that life actually is like that. People dying because of the shittiest things they had no control over every single day.
It’s definitely a thing for women. I’m only in my 30s and I’ve gotten backhanded comments from other women about how bold my make-up is, how short my shorts are, how much cleavage I’m showing, etc. etc.
“Aren’t you getting a little old for spaghetti straps?”
“How brave! I haven’t worn a playsuit since my 20s.”
“If I wore those platforms I’d feel like mutton dressed as lamb.”
It’s pitiful more than anything. Far too many women my age seem convinced they’re already decrepit, old hags. And far too comfortable dragging the rest of us down with them.
People don’t fear aging because they think they can’t express themselves anymore, what kind of bs is that?
Right? I’m afraid of my body giving out, and being a perfectly healthy mind trapped in an immobile flesh prison, unable to do anything but wait for the release of death.
Right!? Even mind failing! Everything. And death, forever, I’m barely handling this. It’s gonna happen, but I have a f. heart condition so it’s for sure gonna happen sooner than for everyone else. I had a friend with an aneurism was not much more than a vegetable for three year. Just insane that life actually is like that. People dying because of the shittiest things they had no control over every single day.
Expressing myself? Who tf cares about that?
It’s definitely a thing for women. I’m only in my 30s and I’ve gotten backhanded comments from other women about how bold my make-up is, how short my shorts are, how much cleavage I’m showing, etc. etc.
“Aren’t you getting a little old for spaghetti straps?”
“How brave! I haven’t worn a playsuit since my 20s.”
“If I wore those platforms I’d feel like mutton dressed as lamb.”
It’s pitiful more than anything. Far too many women my age seem convinced they’re already decrepit, old hags. And far too comfortable dragging the rest of us down with them.
Interesting. My only concern is my body failing, pain and the horror of nothingness.