I do fear aging. My worries are: where my husband and I will live during our last years; whether we’ll have enough money saved from our retirement account that we can live on. I hate the aches and pains and forgetfulness (although this last is caused by ECT); the fine lines and wrinkles, but I accept them. I will turn 50 in July, and for some reason, I’m looking forward to being 50. It’s such a nice number lol
Yes! OMG! YES! I see/hear what my mother struggles with daily, and I simply picture myself being exactly like her. Her chronic pain has spread to my body. Although, I am trying to fight that, I think it’s inevitable because I am almost a carbon copy of my mom.
I’m in the middle of it at 72, so no use fearing. But there’s a lot that’s irritating for sure. Most of it is due to needing help with things like rides because I can’t drive, but that’s due to a physical limitation. I think my brain is in the right place but disability can make me depressed and frustrated. Aging itself if I was in better shape wouldn’t be a problem. A friend of mine always says, you’re only as old as the man you feel. Cheeky bast—.😂
Within health care, I have seen some things that older patients suffered which were so sad. From dementia…to incontinence…to tiny frail bodies that had become locked in the same position due to years of being bed-ridden. So sad.
It is terrifying, of course. Though it’s a bit like public speaking. Once you’ve been doing it for a while you realise that it doesn’t hurt quite as much as you expected it to.
Comparing it to the dentist, now that I think about it, might be closer to the truth. I’m certainly not recommending it.
I’m already almost 70 and so far there had been nothing to fear. Like Clint Eastwood who insists on “keeping the old man out” I am “keeping the old gal out.”
To paraphrase from the movie The Guardian – “Getting old ain’t so bad. It’s earned”.
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Not exactly. What I fear is being debilitated, or a burden on my wife or kids.
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I don’t know. I fear losing the present sometimes.
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I do fear aging. My worries are: where my husband and I will live during our last years; whether we’ll have enough money saved from our retirement account that we can live on. I hate the aches and pains and forgetfulness (although this last is caused by ECT); the fine lines and wrinkles, but I accept them. I will turn 50 in July, and for some reason, I’m looking forward to being 50. It’s such a nice number lol
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Yes! OMG! YES! I see/hear what my mother struggles with daily, and I simply picture myself being exactly like her. Her chronic pain has spread to my body. Although, I am trying to fight that, I think it’s inevitable because I am almost a carbon copy of my mom.
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I’m in the middle of it at 72, so no use fearing. But there’s a lot that’s irritating for sure. Most of it is due to needing help with things like rides because I can’t drive, but that’s due to a physical limitation. I think my brain is in the right place but disability can make me depressed and frustrated. Aging itself if I was in better shape wouldn’t be a problem. A friend of mine always says, you’re only as old as the man you feel. Cheeky bast—.😂
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Within health care, I have seen some things that older patients suffered which were so sad. From dementia…to incontinence…to tiny frail bodies that had become locked in the same position due to years of being bed-ridden. So sad.
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Given my age, I fear the alternative to aging even more.
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It is terrifying, of course. Though it’s a bit like public speaking. Once you’ve been doing it for a while you realise that it doesn’t hurt quite as much as you expected it to.
Comparing it to the dentist, now that I think about it, might be closer to the truth. I’m certainly not recommending it.
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I don’t fear getting old. I fear what I am going to do once I can’t provide for myself
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I’m already almost 70 and so far there had been nothing to fear. Like Clint Eastwood who insists on “keeping the old man out” I am “keeping the old gal out.”
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Not really. Maybe it’s because I desire aging (since I haven’t seemed to have aged in like forever), but that’s just me.
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