Single Status Update
Yeah, this is what usually keeps me up lately. When I should be drifting off into a peaceful sleep, I'm instead obsessing over the end. It could be some cataclysmic event, like a country-sized meteor that could turn this planet into a toxic wasteland. It could be painful-- I could be burned, skinned, broken, smashed or picked apart, lying on conrete in pieces flailing in pain, begging for any kind of release, until finally it comes in the form of chemicals flooding my brain as I float off into oblivion. I could be an old man, reflecting on my life and more accepting of what will happen, my own fate in my hands as I decide it's time to go.
I keep telling myself that this is just some misplaced frustration toward the lack of control I have over my life or a nameless, possibly imaginary threat to my livelihood. But we all know the effectiveness of things we "keep telling ourselves". It doesn't seem to keep me from thrashing around in bed for hours, working up a cold sweat. It certainly doesn't make a good enough excuse to stop contemplating inevitability. I'm not young any more, but do I really have to? I think it's too early to go through this crap.
Sometimes it's not the end itself that bothers me so much as the significance of experiencing death. I don't want the thread to turn into one of those discussions, since I've already resigned myself to the fact that I'll never know and any positive answer I can come up with is probably wishful thinking out of fear.
That's not to say this hasn't happened before; I seem to remember me going through this crap about ten years ago. I can draw certain parallels to my life between then and now, which I suppose would be a nice exercise in self-awareness, but I think the real lesson to learn here is that I REALLY NEED TO GET SOME PROBLEMS THAT ARE MORE MUNDANE. Like being late on the mortgage or something. Jesus.
P.S. No, drugs won't help. They only magnify the problem.