I was staring at my bedroom ceiling unable to sleep because of my fear for the inevitable. I am scared of dying.
Dying isn’t like sleeping. There’s nothing to wake up to. How can there be nothing to wake up to? Nothing to sleep to? Nothing at all?
I find this idea very hard to come to terms with. Especially as someone who thinks about this more and more the older I get.
It’s something that everyone and everything in life will have to face some day. And looking at death straight in the face, I find it hard to see how you couldn’t be terrified by the inevitability.
But realising that your time is here limited can be a powerful motivator. A way for you to realise what you really want, and what you really don’t need. Every time I remind myself of the nihilism of death, I remember that that is the exact reason why I cannot waste this one chance.
The chance to live. The chance to live a life that is likely better than most lives which have ever lived on this planet. The chance to love so many things.
The chance to see the wonders of the world: eat the glorious food of Italy, feel the heat from down-under, and see the lights of Times Square. The chance to spend time with your family and hopefully have your own. The chance to share these memories with your best friend. The chance to draw on your friends face when they’ve passed out drunk. The chance to see your favourite band live.
So many chances to live in what seems such little time. Thinking about death a lot can make you feel very scared and very lonely. We’re all facing death alone. But we all have to face death.
I’m really scared about dying. But I’m even more scared about not living.