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I fear death. Well, not exactly. To quote a song that I can't recall the name of, "It's not death that scares (me), it's the ghost (I) cannot see." The instant of death doesn't bother me, rather the concept of nonexistence that follows.
I was raised in a very religious household; my father's "calling" was to be a minister in the church, as it were. I was taught at a very young age the inevitability of death, but that this life mattered little in regards of the grand scheme of things.
Perhaps the children of clergymen are predisposed to lose faith. I did, certainly. It's difficult to remain faithful in a god who is interpreted to you primarily through someone you know thoroughly, as I began to doubt my religion as the humanity of my father made itself so incredibly obvious.
As the looming reality of mortality waxed and the idea of greater meaning waned, I found myself pretty unable to distract myself. The prudence of my upbringing left me with friends few and far between, and the repression of sexuality has left me thoroughly positioned in an iredeemable zone of awkward, kissless virginity. The only "relationship" I ever had was online, and I had to compromise my sexuality for the opportunity at feeling affection from at least someone.
University was tough, at least, the first semesters I attended. I was temporarily removed from campus by counselor fears of me being suicidal, though I believe it was just a very overwhelming transitional period. I was beginning to do better. Unfortunately I was 1.2 points in Physics short of maintaining my scholarship, so it was suspended for a semester. The proceeding events had left me a mess to date.
My parents, who I may have had reasons to dislike, but none to distrust, offered to pay for mys suspended semester. I went, and did fine enough to get my scholarship reinstated. Unfortunately, they never actually paid. They let the debt go in my name and let it be, not informing me until I attempted to register for the next semester and was shown to owe over $8,000 in debt. Not being able to go the next semester permanently forfeit my financial aid, and I discovered that my credit had been negatively affected from an unrelated loan taken out in my name by my parents.
I've since been out of school 18 months. I cannot afford it, though I'm hoping such will be different if I can land a job I'm applying for to replace my current one. I have no friends that aren't online and of varying availability, no loved ones aside form an ex who I've since gone fully no-contact with, and a family that I cannot trust but currently must depend on.
I'm afraid to try new things. I don't know why fully, but it's as if whenever I'm under the roof of this place, I'm immediately in a sour, melancholy mood. Nothing seems to help it. I cannot afford to move out with my current job (though if I land the one I applied for, I will be able to move out and return to school). I've been trying to get into the same two things since I started university (Drawing and music production) but always only maintain effort for around a week before forfeiting to the idea of never truly being cared about for it.
I believe I'm afraid to start things that take any considerable amount of time because I fear thinking about a passage of time so long and its inevitable march toward my likely unremarkable death. I wish I could believe in at least something, or care about something enough to not worry, but I can't.
I know thinking about dying happens from time to time, but it's literally an all-consuming thought for me. I can't enjoy anything, or even try to meet new people without fearing the inevitable loss, the inevitable nothingness. I get that anti-straw men can thrive under such a mindset, but I can't bring myself to do anything but feel miserable and hopeless over any ambitions that well up within me, and I just want to stop everything. I haven't progressed as a person in years.
>>17001277
I wasn't going to read your thread (and I didn't), but this caught my eye:
>I believe I'm afraid to start things that take any considerable amount of time because I fear thinking about a passage of time so long and its inevitable march toward my likely unremarkable death. I wish I could believe in at least something, or care about something enough to not worry, but I can't.
Basically everything in life is risk. That is risk is giving up time for questionable gain. You can try or you can do nothing. But nothing is a choice too. The argument for nothing is marginal enjoyment, but let's be honest, you aren't enjoying that shit, are you?
Nonexistence in an infinite universe is a physical impossibility.
It's hard to say what kind of existence follows death, but it's not a blank void.
>>17001294
Not particularly, no.
>>17001491
Sorry, posted between updates. I thought our current model of the universe wasn't infinite, though? And there still exists impossibilities.
Hopefully if I get this job it'll help clear things up.
>>17001259
quote from the transporter 3: you arent afraid of dying because you dont know how to live.
>>17003099
Oh, sorry. I keep missing when I actually get reply.
