My Own Mortality

Confronting this… daily…  I find it overwhelming.

The amazing and almost crippling sense of responsibility to do something – make something – create a mark… somehow to buy myself eternity when I have lost the certainty that it is mine to gain.

I still believe in God.  In Higher Power.

And I am desperate for there to be afterlife… and yet the older I get the more heaven fades into something intangible, separate…  something that we talk about but isn’t something actually real and the prospect…allowing myself to think about the prospect of death as finality is terrifying.  To know that there will be a time when I will cease to be a conscious being…that everything will fade out and I will be… quite literally… nothing…

I realize that as nothing I will feel nothing know nothing be nothing…but to have existed and then to have existence torn from me – I cannot believe any of us can truly go quietly into that good night.

I feel a tightness in my chest.  A terror.  I think on it daily.  On how the clock is ticking.  How the days and years go so much faster now than they did when I believed in a definite substantial eternity and when I was young and when 35 felt like forever away and the understanding, the flat hard cold solid memory of that time and then to be here, now, and to not have changed all that much as a person… to look around and see how we squander ourselves on all of the ridiculous morality and meaningless law and strange love rituals and all the pain that we endure because we truly believe that time will never run out… when you know that it will and you see that others do not behave with this knowledge it is painful in a way I cannot describe.  I have to ignore it in order to carry on.

I remember in college when I stood on the bridge and considered taking my own life.  This has happened to me numerous times – decision after decision to continue on in this existence – the reason for taking my own life to be to answer my question and the reason not to simply and selfishly, because I believe I might be wrong – that I might end up in the nothingness instead of in the afterlife… it is why The Nothing in the Neverending Story is so terrible and terrifying – because this… in the deepest part of our psyche, is our biggest fear.  The fear that eternity is myth.  It is so terrible that we forbid ourselves from thinking on it.  We deny it.  We run from it.  We say we look forward to heaven and yet we exercise and we eat right and we do all that we can to avoid this so-called Paradise…why?  Because in the depths of our souls we somehow know it cannot be.  That it is pure fantasy.

I want with everything that I am for there to be life after death – I cannot imagine and do not want to engage with the horror that is the inevitable Nothing for the atheistic parts of humanity and yet…  yet I am confronted so often and so hardily with it that I can no longer deal with the painful juxtaposition I am faced with regularly…  how…how do you live knowing that this is the end when everyone around you lives as if there is more – as if there is some reward – as if faithfulness and loyalty is everything – yet deep deep down we long for more and deeper and longer and it is…intensive and sad to see it all around us…  What does it mean?  Why… why are we here and…  yes… yes the existential record plays and plays and we dance to it unknowingly in discords and sharps and painful harmonies that we plug our ears to all the time we have to hear them.

God help me.


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