I am petrified of death... or perhaps just the dying part. Either way, I'm none to thrilled with the fact that I just won't be here anymore one day. I know how absurd this is... and for all I know, death is just plain nothingness, which I guess wouldn't be too terrible assuming you're simply not aware of anything anymore. Unfortunately to me however, that's kind-of the scariest potential reality. I would literally prefer to be a ghost, or something somewhere that can still process thought and take in whatever reality exists at that point.
I've been afraid of death for the vast majority of my 33 years. Even as a little kid, I always thought I was dying from something. I guess that was the Jewish alarmist in me, but it is a wee bit strange for a little kid to be so afraid of something they shouldn't really even be thinking about. Isn't that one of the joys of childhood? Being a bit fearless? I never was.
To this day the whole fear of death thing can be a bit debilitating from time-to-time. Whenever I wake up in the middle of the night and am too tired to get up to read, I lay in bed and think about death. I worry about the possibility of dying in my sleep for who knows what reason? Morbid, I know.
I can't help but point a finger at my parents for this one.
When I was about 5, my family flew to Chicago for the funeral of my great grandmother Rose. She lived a nice long life free of any major illnesses. I think she was in her 90s. Lucky broad. I didn't yet know what a funeral was... let alone what death and dying meant. I was then an inquisitive happy-go-lucky little girl and likewise, I was restless and bored during the proceedings. At some point, I jumped out of my seat and demanded to know what was in the box. My parents thought this was hilarious and it brought a bit of light and humor to the macabre occasion. Little did I know that in that box was a dead person. I am convinced that's when everything changed.
The reason I'm writing this, is because I have spent ample time thinking about how I would talk to potential children of mine about death... when I would talk to them about it, what I would say, etc. I think I would almost want to over-compensate for the fact that I don't think I ever received the death talk. Nobody told me that dying is part of life... that we all die one day - and that it's inevitable. I think my parents, like many parents assume religion serves as the comfort... but it never did for me.
Perhaps I'm mistaken. Maybe my parents did give me the death talk and I blocked it out or ignored it. I don't know. Either way, I know that I"m not a big fan of the dying thing - and if we do kid, the last thing I want for them is to have the same morbid, scared, neurotic, crazed perspective on it that I have.
Fortunately, I'm married to a wonderful guy who has a significantly healthier perspective on the subject. He tries to help me get over the fear on a regular basis. In fact, come to think of it, if we kid, I'll let him handle that topic when appropriate.
On a semi-side note, I enjoy horror movies and books about serial killers.
Hmm...
