There is one word I hate more than any other these days: senior. The hating has grown phenomenally in the last few months. I lost a shitload of weight (100 pounds) and could see my face as it was always before the weight. That is, how it was except for one thing. I was older. I could see it. I had to face (literally) the aging process. And when I saw the age, all the years of internalized stereotypes of age came to me; a sense of loss drowned my sense of life and fun. Old is sick, decrepit, wrinkly, unlovable, death before death. No one loves the elderly, the senior.

Our society places those over 50, sometimes those over 40, in the category of death is coming, just give up. A beautiful closet, really a big casket, has been built by our collective fear for the “elderly” to exist in. They are out of sight there. No one need fear the future when the senescent are safely ensconced in the shameful closet of near death.

The government in Massachusetts defines elderly as 60 and over. At that age, any abuse of the disabled becomes abuse of the elderly and mandated reporters have to, well, report to the elderly abuse hotline any abuse observed of those with physical or mental challenges who are 60 plus. Somehow it is more serious to neglect the “elderly” than someone younger with cognitive and intellectual challenges.

Bullshit. Abuse or neglect by a caregiver is abuse and neglect. There should be no ghetto of doom for someone older than those younger. No one should suffer abuse. No one. They are on a continuum of time having survived rather than worthiness. Older people are younger people to someone. Younger people are older to someone else. It’s relative rather than absolute.

But we continue to make excuses. Old people are sicker, more likely to have a serious illness, a fall, etc. I’ve heard doctors say many times, “It just happens when you get older”. Well, so fucking what. Athletes are more likely to get injured. Should we just tell the next football player, any position, who gets knocked down and injures a body part, “Oh well, it’s just a part of the game. Live with it.” No we don’t do that. We treat it. We do research. There is research into problems associated with living longer than 35 years but aside from erectile dysfunction and hair loss I haven’t seen many results.

One great example is the fact that many life survivors feel colder than their fellows in the same environment. Why is that? I’ve read babble about this or that but no satisfactory explanation for me. One explanation I read was the loss of muscle and thinning of skin cannot keep our internal temperatures well regulated. Well, is anyone researching keeping our skin thicker? I have read some research in building and keeping muscle as you survive longer. I’ve begun to build more muscle than I’ve ever had before at a time when I have read I am supposed to be losing it.

I say this right now: no new closets. I have fought myself and the social environment around me to be the man I am, gay, left handed, and so much more. No hiding and no apologizing. No to discrimination; do as much as you can. And in this fight I have found words matter. They can be the embodiment of attitudes that simply need to pass away. No more faggots and no more seniors.