**I promise you I’m a relatively happy person. I enjoy life and I’m not a goth.haha**
Death. I’ve always been greatly aware of it. I can’t recall a time when I was shielded from what happened to pets, old family members or people in the neighborhood. No one tried to sugar coat anything, they would simply answer any questions my young mind conjured with something along the lines of “they’re dead or they’ve passed on.”
Why am I talking about death? Am I a grim person with a grim outlook on life? I don’t think so. Actually, I find that I often try to look for the positive or magic in life as realities (especially the ones I encountered once I entered the post college world) are quite harsh, rough and uncomfortable. I extremely dislike that feeling. The feeling of being uncomfortable and living in a world where positives and hope for the best are squashed by self serving rude people who want to take everything you have and leave you alone, somewhere in a dark place wondering where you went wrong.
But I digress, death and the fact that I one day will meet my maker has always been looming somewhere in the back of my mind. It’s not exactly a comforting fact. It’s important to be mindful of this as I think it does help to motivate in ways people may not have even bothered to attempt to live life but for me, it produces a level of anxiety.
Why anxiety? It’s that time factor.
I only have so many years on this earth and I don’t know when it will all end. That sounds morbid but it’s true. I want to make an impact. It doesn’t have to be something for the whole world to see but I want to be proud of what I do. I want to know that I used my time wisely and did everything I could to live a happy and fulfilled life because, what else can I do?
For me, in order to do this it means achieving certain goals I set for myself no matter how trivial or deep. I want to be my best self (but doesn’t everybody). I don’t want to have regrets (or too many of them) and I want to know that I tried my best and if I looked stupid, felt awkward or embarrassed, at least it was for something I thought was worth it. My mortality makes me want to do these things and forces me to shoot for the stars but it also gives me that anxiety.
Maybe it’s a millennial problem but I feel as if I only have so much time to make it all (all being my goals or some variation of it) happen. I’m a broken record. I think millennials were brought into a world obsessed with death. Not intentionally though.
We’re surrounded by news that tells us about people flipping their lid and killing others over hate. Everyday there is more news about it. We were around when 9/11 happened and things never quite seemed the same. We were here to see the rise of tech and fads that all have their quick moment and end before you even really had a chance to understand it. Everything seems so temporary and I’m not a fan of temporary. I enjoy good moments and know things can’t last forever but I’m also traditional – I like to have things for a bit.
I make no sense.
This is kind of a diary entry but my mortality motivates me and makes me anxious. I’m not afraid of dying (I don’t think), I’m just afraid I can’t accomplish what I want in time. Well, at least I tried.