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|rek (profile) wrote, |
on 10-21-2012 at 1:03am
|what really horrified me about that dream wasn't the fact that i was going to die soon, or terribly, or that i had to go to each and every person i knew/loved and tell them - but that i had to tell you i was going to be gone soon, and there was nothing you could do, and you would be horrifically alone and be doomed to a future of despair and psychosis. that you would be alone and i wouldn't be there to do anything to help you.
i think about that dream and the idea of death, and its inevitability, and persistence of it in a vein throughout every day. i flare my anxiety by thinking about someday, maybe tomorrow, maybe wednesday, maybe 242 days from now, an aneurysm or car crash could take me and there i would be, screaming in an instant, with an unresolved life. i think about the horror of death and i remember that day 6 years and 60 days ago when i first truly thought i was going to die. and every once in a while that feeling comes back and even though i don't logically believe i am going to die soon, the anxiety tells me that i will be. and somewhere in my heart it grips me, that even though it's not today, it's someday. i have to die.
but after all that, after all the PTSD fear and anxiety and depression and horror and insomnia, the only thing that actually, actually makes me stop and cry, is the single thought of leaving you to be alone.