The frequent, sharp pains that I’ve felt over the past 24-48 hours have prompted me to ponder how I would react in a worst-case scenario. What if I was diagnosed with a terminal illness and had less than a year to live? Most people would be shocked, fearful, in denial, or ready to make the most of their short time remaining. I, on the other hand, started to feel relieved after envisioning myself in that situation.
- Relieved that I would soon be free of the tremendous hassle it takes just to survive and be healthy
- Relieved that all the negativity that I’ve been unable to purge from my mind would soon disappear
- Relieved that I would no longer be subjected to other people’s judgments, rejections, and hostility
- Relieved that I would no longer regret missing out on my youth that is now in the rear-view mirror
- Relieved that I would be deep in the dirt long before having to suffer through the horrors of old age
Losing my innate fear of death feels like a precursor to finally taking the initiative to end my own life after three decades of abject torment. As it stands, I am unhappy well over 90% of the time; the recurring feelings of stress, anxiety, loneliness, dejection, and rage outweigh the rare and brief moments of happiness by a considerable margin. Right now I’m barely hanging on and my grip is loosening.