I am plagued by an irrational fear of death
For as long as I can remember, the lingering fear of death has consumed my every waking moment. Uncertainty of what happens after death and feeling as if I have no control has tormented me my whole life.
Anxiety surrounding death prevents me from sleeping at night, as each time I close my eyes, the idea of death bombards me and fills my head. Nothing I tell myself or have others say is enough ammunition to win the endless battle within my mind. Despite my best efforts, I am constantly reminding myself that not only will I die and lose control of what happens to my body, but also that every person I have ever loved will die.
One day I will share my last conversation with my older sister. I’ll rest my head on my dad’s shoulder one last time. I’ll bring my mother in for a final embrace and as I release, the realization that I will never again be able to express my love for her will drown me.
My irrational fear of death eventually became so strong that I had to start weekly therapy sessions, which worked to help with the overarching stress I faced each day. During the sessions, I gained a false sense of confidence that waned the second I entered the car. As I placed my head against the window, my glance fixated on the people walking to and from their cars, their simple silhouettes served as a reminder that no one can escape death.
Due to COVID-19, I had to stop these weekly sessions. Quarantine acted as a catalyst for my anxiety. I was locked away, alone with my thoughts. Each day my anxiety and existential dread grew stronger, as if an invisible force was pushing down on me. This force follows me like a shadow, never leaving.
My first encounter with death was when I was 8-years-old and my grandmother passed. I remember the exact talk my parents had with me. This was my first true experience with loss and grief. As a child, I had no idea how to process these emotions and I felt alone. I wondered if other children constantly thought about how and when they were going to die. Ever since that day, the shattering reality that death is an inevitable process of life haunts me.
The only beneficiary of my irrational fear of death is the gratitude for life it has given me. My hyper-consciousness that everything will one day be gone has forced me to appreciate what is in front of me. With every moment I spend with the people I love, I am reminded that one day we will all be separated, by distance or in death, and a melancholic sadness overcomes me. Every moment, even the mundane routines and painstaking boardroom, is bittersweet. The fleeting nature of these experiences make them special. Paradoxically, my acknowledgement that I will die, has allowed me to live each moment resolutely.
