I’m not sure why, but lately I feel obsessed with the idea of mortality. I’ve been having insomnia just thinking about how I’ll die, and when, and what happens to a person after they’re gone. There’s all this stuff about pandemics and the earth becoming uninhabitable, and I’m getting older, and I know it’s inevitable and everything, but I just feel really scared of getting old and death and it’s made worse by the fact that nobody knows if there’s an afterlife or if we all just vanish into oblivion when we’re dead.
I’m always having these dreams or thoughts of my diabetic boyfriend or my son getting terribly terribly ill and it’s this worry that won’t go away and it’s exhausting. Like, I don’t know why I’m so afraid. One day I’ll be dead. One day my parents will be dead. One day the human race won’t even exist anymore. I guess maybe it’s just fear of the unknown that’s getting to me? I think most people are afraid of oblivion. But my brain just won’t stop nagging me about it and it’s really distracting.
Another thing is, I look back on my life and I’m nowhere near where I thought I’d be at this point. I haven’t accomplished most anything I thought I’d have accomplished by now. What am I even doing? It’s like ugh I feel like I’m wasting my life, you know? I haven’t travelled the world. I haven’t published a book. I haven’t gotten married or changed the world or graduated college or followed my dreams. I don’t know, it’s just dejecting, like what exactly have I been doing for the past 25 years? I know life isn’t about accomplishment or whatever, but I’m hard on myself, and I really just regret not doing the things I really wanted to do earlier.
What’s the point, though? We’re all going to die someday anyway.