When I was 19, the full impact of my own mortality hit me fully. I realised that some day, I won't exist, and I kind of had a breakdown. For days, I just cried. I would watch my boyfriend play with our pets and think 'what's the point? we'll all be gone eventually...' I was a terrible mess. Eventually I got help from anti-anxiety medication and I got passed it. To a degree. For a good 10-15 years after this, every so often, when I was falling asleep, right as I drifted off I would wake in the middle of a horrible panic attack about the notion of death, or more specifically, not existing. It wasn't something I could ward off because there was no warning, one moment I'd be just falling asleep the next crying and gasping for breath in a horrible mad panic about not existing. Sheer terror. Was horrible. Those have lessened in the last few years and I can only surmise it is because I've made my life one worth living. Before it was just existing. Now, I am SO glad I am following my dreams and seeing the world and taking risks. Sure I might be in an accident over there, or a plane crash - but I could be killed just as easily here. Following my dreams means my life doesn't feel wasted anymore. I feel I am reaching more and more of my potential and that makes that panic and feat of death abate.
This is not an uncommon fear, the fear of death and not existing. I do think it is embedded in whether or not you feel you are reaching - or trying to reach - your potential in life. I know this is a weird travel post, but travel is a big part of this for me. Following dreams rather than putting them off for practicality and so on - it's such a very short life we get, who knows when or if we'll get the chance to act again.
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