I am absolutely and utterly terrified of death.
Death has always scared me to some extent. That applies to most people, I guess, it's quite a natural thing to be afraid of death. However it's never worried me as much as it does now. I guess I just didn't think too much of it earlier, death is inevitable but it's such a distant thing and I've always concentrated on the worries of the present too much to think about the worries of the future. This train of thought changed a few weeks ago, when my grandmother had a stroke.
My dad called me a little under two weeks ago to inform me of the news. According to him the stroke hit her pretty hard, but at the time she seemed to be recovering well in the hospital (As well as a stroke would permit anyway. She couldn't talk, but she was conscious and could respond to questions by nodding or shaking her head.) but last friday I got a call from my brother saying that her condition's worsened and she's started to have respiratory problems. Mostly everyone in the family dropped what they were doing and made their way to the hospital because it's become clear to everyone that unless a miracle occurs she's not long for this world, and it might had been the last chance we got to talk to her. When I got to the hospital... Christ, she was barely even conscious. I'll spare you the details on how the visit went because ultimately that's not the purpose of this post, but we never managed to get a response out of her the entire night. (Although it is worthy to note that her condition did improve ever so slightly towards the end. There is a miniscule hope that she might recover, but even if she does she'll never be the same.) More importantly though, seeing her in that hospital bed, knowing that she ultimately doesn't have much time left, made me think a lot about death in general, and in particular, the realization that I too will eventually be lying on that bed.
I am a logical person at heart. Always have been (even if I may not always act very logically). I believe that everything has a rational explanation and can be proved or disproved through science and reason. Because of this, I used to be pretty critical of religious thinking earlier in my life (still am, in fact, but I'm less of an asshole about it than I were back then). I am now suddenly much, much more understanding of religion, and a small part of me now also regrets not taking it up myself, because it's infinitely easier to come to terms with the concept of death as a religious person than as a logical one.
Science dictates that our consciousness is "nothing more than the absurd act of chemicals", the result of neurons firing off in our brains. When we die, that neural activity just... stops. From the scientist's point of view, there is no soul to be carried off to some other plane of existence. You as a person, all of your memories, thoughts, feelings, joys, fears, nightmares, dreams - just ceases to exist. It's not just an empty void where you feel nothing at all - you won't be able to comprehend that there IS a void, or that you're even dead to begin with - you won't comprehend anything at all. Our entire lives are based around our consciousness, our existence, and thus the very concept of non-existence, to feel or think nothing, is anathema to the human brain. The very thought of it, and the knowledge it's an inevitability just as the sun rises every day, terrifies me more than you could ever imagine.
This has kept me up at night ever since that hospital visit last friday. I'm writing this right now, almost 3 AM over here precisely because I am unable to sleep. Even knowing that I still have the majority of my life in front of me doesn't do much to bring me comfort, because I know that final day, the day where I lie in that hospital bed as my consciousness slowly drains away into nothing, is drawing closer with every year, every day, every second.
Jesus Christ, I don't want to die.
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