This morning while I was breastfeeding Gabby, I had a mini panic attack. Here’s what happened.
While I was feeding her, I fixated on the family photo that sits on the coffee table. I was thinking how it looks so incomplete without our little girl in the picture. Then, I started thinking how one day me and Tony will die and the pictures we have around the house will serve as reminders that we once lived and were a family. That will be all that’s left, pictures and the memories they represent.
THEN… I started to think about death. And that, my friends, is what I started to freak out.
Anytime I think of death, I think of eternity. And anytime I think of eternity, I freak the hell out.
The fear of the unknown is what scares me. I can’t wrap my mind around it. If there is a heaven, will I go there? And if I do, will I know my children when they die and join me there? If there’s a hell and I end up there (which is where my dad says I’m heading right now) Will it hurt? Will I be in constant pain?
And what if there is no heaven or hell. What then? Do you just cease to exist? I mean, when you take your last breath, is that just the end of everything? No afterlife?
I start asking myself all of these questions and I start to panic. My hands and my feet went numb, I got lightheaded. I tried to make myself stop thinking about it, but I couldn’t. I started crying and hyperventilating… WHAT THE HELL.
Now, I’m trying to calm down, but the thoughts keep swirling around in my brain and I can’t stop obsessing about it.
I don’t want to die. I don’t want to know what happens after I die. I just want to live forever and watch my kids grow and my grandkids be born.
Am I the only one who freaks out about this stuff? I mean, I’m sure I’m the only one who’s ever actually had a panic attack over it, but surely, there are others who have fears like I do about what happens after you die.
God damn it, I just want to stop thinking about it.