Status: Currently in progress.
Dear Diary: Ten People, One Fear
Celina
Dear Diary,
I’m afraid. To be completely honest, I’m terrified of dying. I don’t know when it started. No, wait, that’s a lie. When I was younger, I think I was 8, I had a nightmare. I don’t even remember what the nightmare was about anymore, but it scared me out of my bed and I went and slept in my sister’s room. She was watching some show on TV about a murder mystery because she needed the noise to be able to sleep. I remember lying awake, terrified of some boogeyman of my dreams, only to have to watch a show about a girl who was murder by a boy she went to school with. He stabbed her 70 times or some ridiculous number like that. They were just lab partners and he killed her for no reason. Then the TV spokesperson had to be sure that he established, multiple times, that it was a true story. That was what started it… I’m sure of it.
It’s not so much that I’m afraid of dying. Mostly, it’s the anticipation that kills me. No pun intended. I don’t want to be paranoid that everyone out there is going to one day murder me. Then, I also don’t want to have anxiety worrying about when I’ll die and just how much of my life I’ll be able to live. That’s the worst part. When I die, will I be young? Will I still have my entire life ahead of me and have it all cut short? When I die, will I suffer? Will my death be a drawn out by a twisted murderer or a chronic illness? Those little questions that I wonder at night keep me awake too long. I can’t lie flat on my back when I sleep. It makes me feel like I’m in a coffin and setting myself up to die in my sleep. I also can’t sleep on my stomach. I’m afraid then I won’t be able to see if someone tries to kill me in my sleep. I pray I don’t die in my sleep. I’d rather see it coming and have that chance to say goodbye or fight against it, even if only in a fleeting moment.
I know this probably all sounds completely stupid. I mean, I’m still a kid I have my entire life ahead of me. I shouldn’t be worried about dying. But you know you can’t die unless you live. I’m already living so I know that I’ll die one day. Why should I worry about the inevitable? I’ll tell you why, because it’s unpredictable. For all I know, I could die in a car crash tomorrow on my way to school. But then again, I could die when I’m 104 of natural causes with my entire family there to see me off. Who knows, maybe I’ll be shot when I’m 38 and die of shock. I don’t want to die, but I know I have to. Even if I am granted immortality, I’d just live until the sun exploded and the earth decayed and the universe ended which in the end is worst than dying. Well, actually in a way that is dying. When I do die, I hope I’m ready for it. I want to be able to have a good job and retire happily, and marry my soul mate (or at least meet him), and have beautiful children and grandchildren who grow up to be happy also. I don’t want to die before I’ve lived all I can.
Who here thinks about death on a daily basis? Yeah, I’d have to raise my hand to that.
As Always,
Celina
I’m afraid. To be completely honest, I’m terrified of dying. I don’t know when it started. No, wait, that’s a lie. When I was younger, I think I was 8, I had a nightmare. I don’t even remember what the nightmare was about anymore, but it scared me out of my bed and I went and slept in my sister’s room. She was watching some show on TV about a murder mystery because she needed the noise to be able to sleep. I remember lying awake, terrified of some boogeyman of my dreams, only to have to watch a show about a girl who was murder by a boy she went to school with. He stabbed her 70 times or some ridiculous number like that. They were just lab partners and he killed her for no reason. Then the TV spokesperson had to be sure that he established, multiple times, that it was a true story. That was what started it… I’m sure of it.
It’s not so much that I’m afraid of dying. Mostly, it’s the anticipation that kills me. No pun intended. I don’t want to be paranoid that everyone out there is going to one day murder me. Then, I also don’t want to have anxiety worrying about when I’ll die and just how much of my life I’ll be able to live. That’s the worst part. When I die, will I be young? Will I still have my entire life ahead of me and have it all cut short? When I die, will I suffer? Will my death be a drawn out by a twisted murderer or a chronic illness? Those little questions that I wonder at night keep me awake too long. I can’t lie flat on my back when I sleep. It makes me feel like I’m in a coffin and setting myself up to die in my sleep. I also can’t sleep on my stomach. I’m afraid then I won’t be able to see if someone tries to kill me in my sleep. I pray I don’t die in my sleep. I’d rather see it coming and have that chance to say goodbye or fight against it, even if only in a fleeting moment.
I know this probably all sounds completely stupid. I mean, I’m still a kid I have my entire life ahead of me. I shouldn’t be worried about dying. But you know you can’t die unless you live. I’m already living so I know that I’ll die one day. Why should I worry about the inevitable? I’ll tell you why, because it’s unpredictable. For all I know, I could die in a car crash tomorrow on my way to school. But then again, I could die when I’m 104 of natural causes with my entire family there to see me off. Who knows, maybe I’ll be shot when I’m 38 and die of shock. I don’t want to die, but I know I have to. Even if I am granted immortality, I’d just live until the sun exploded and the earth decayed and the universe ended which in the end is worst than dying. Well, actually in a way that is dying. When I do die, I hope I’m ready for it. I want to be able to have a good job and retire happily, and marry my soul mate (or at least meet him), and have beautiful children and grandchildren who grow up to be happy also. I don’t want to die before I’ve lived all I can.
Who here thinks about death on a daily basis? Yeah, I’d have to raise my hand to that.
As Always,
Celina
♠ ♠ ♠
That's just how it is in my head.