(September 25, 2013 at 8:58 pm)The Latheist Wrote: I am 42 years old. I have a fine arts diploma, a BFA, a BEd and am currently working on a diploma in Visual Communications. I have no job, but was recently a high school teacher for several years. I am a husband of 12 years and father to two beautiful girls aged 7 and 5. I am currently in roughly year two of severe depression and anxiety due to the recognition and acknowledgement of my failures as a human within the tiny expanse of my pathetic and insignificant existence as a spec of dust in the incomprehensible vastness of the universe(s). I have always fought (mostly subconsciously) against conformity and domesticity and against the wonderful security and simple pleasures that come with it, growing bored and self-destructive in the process. My shrink thinks I hate myself because I am never satisfied with the state I’m in, constantly in flux with my understanding of place and self, unrelenting in a battle against a meaningless existence, unable to comprehend what that means. I fear death because I don't believe in God and am terrified at the idea of nothingness. I envy those who have found God as I long for security in the choices I make, I long for faith in something. I always want more and when satiated, I destroy then move on past the rubble. I’m a cliché and I know/perpetuate it.
Man, you're in the same situation I was in, and to some extent still am in every so often. Depression has a very strong tendency to evoke sudden fears of death, especially the contemplation of it, which is something I can certainly attest to.
Best thing to do, is take solace in the fact that even when you do die, you will live on, in a way, in your daughters. And they will remember you. You are significant to them. In this world, the only thing that gives us significance is the company we hold, the friends we have, the things and people we love. It's them for whom and which you should live for...not some grand cosmic scheme and purpose in an immensely enormous universe. To wish for such is just hubris. We are small, but we are pieces to the puzzle, threads in the grand tapestry of life on this planet and, hopefully, someday soon, on other planets as well.
Death is scary...but it's experience, I imagine, is pretty...well, nothing. I imagine that in that moment just before death, that last second is an explosion of the memories and experiences we've had, all rushing into our conscious eye before it passes. And, in our perception, that moment lasts an eternity.
Don't fear death. Accept it. You cannot escape the reaper, but you can run, you can keep out of his reach. Eventually, however, you will tire. He will loom, and he will approach. And when he finally reaches for you, do not fight it, screaming and pleading and begging and wailing. Accept his embrace, and go with him with one last thought to everything you've experienced, and be happy you were able to feel it, before you return to whence you came. And know that you will be remembered by others, and in some way, through the genetic strands of life, some part of you will continue onwards.
