Fear of Death

I’m petrified of death. I am so fearful that I do not allow my mind to entertain the subject most of the time. I have cried, fainted, and spent hours in melancholy in the times of my thought being permitted to entertain death. I have sought ways out, and yet there has not been an adequate one presented. In order to better understand this, I’d like to present a conception of death, but do not feel it can be presented sufficiently. The question then is why is it I’m so fearful?

Here, I need to posit the way I view death, even if I cannot adequately provide a conception of it. I view it as the end. The end of me, as a being, where my consciousness ceases and my experience ends. I would have no more life, and not only would I have no more life, but I would never have one again.

Of course, limitations can be found here. Namely, in logical possibilities where my soul might go on, or in cases where I may in fact have life again. Consequently, I cannot know that I will have no life again. However, I cannot affirm the belief that I will either. I would suggest it is more likely that my life will cease forever; yet what is probability in the face of death but uncertainty? Death is far too real and yet incomprehensible for matters of probability.

            I then find myself in an intellectual desert — how can I remain intellectually or emotionally neutral in the face of a matter which threatens my very being.? As such, I have real emotions and real opinions in the face of death, and I am sentenced to a world in which I suffer at the concept of my death while forcibly aware of the lack of certainty regarding any beliefs surrounding it.

And so, I come back to the same question,: what is it which makes me so fearful? I think it is the potential for death to be the complete and utter end which promotes this fear. Yes, it may be only a potentiality, but that possibility in and of itself — and it being a real and tangible one — is what frightens me. The potential for absolute nonexistence, and the certainty that my present life will end, seems necessary. But, which part is it that scares me?

When it comes to the latter, I love my life and do not desire its end. I also do not necessarily view the experience of death to be one to dread. Many of the ways in which we die do not seem painful; in fact, they may perhaps may even be peaceful. However, were my life to end I’d hold onto the hope of something after, some experience that I will continue to have. In this case, a fear may remain, as I have an attachment to my identity and fear its loss. However, given that this fear would also be present if my being were to totally end, the fear of the absolute end of my being seems far more substantial.

Why does this potentiality scare me? I enjoy and love being, but in order to apply a value of good or bad to being, I must already be a being. As such, being is regarded as good because I am a being which likes being, and in order to be I must be a being. I am a being which must be. However, what if this love for being were to disappear? If I have a life absent of joy and pleasure I very well may no longer wish to be. It seems then this existing as “a being which must be” presupposes certain endurable conditions within which one exists.

Additionally, I may fear pain, torture, and innumerable “negative” experiences, yet nonexistence remains a more substantial fear. This is because the former may be temporary, while death presents absolute conditions: the possibility that I may no longer be. This leads to a clash with my existing as “a being which must be.” Given that I am an emotional being, I feel an emotion in response to this, and what better emotion is there to provoke an awareness in me of the gravity of death than fear?

I experience anguish, fear, and sadness as the being which must be and enjoys being, grieving my end as an inevitable loss, as if it were a loved one perishing. I’ve cried many times at the thoughts of others dying, and in response to those close to me dying, and yet I could always love more people.

The end to me becomes the end to my capacity for love, along with all of the other capacities of my agent self. I may fear the grief of those for me, but it is what we all do at the death of a loved one. Although this seems to be all the more personal, it is simultaneously more universal. It would mark the ultimate death for me, and if it is for me, then it would also eventually occur to all. A moment of grief is for the dead, ourselves, and for all of humankind for we too will one day die.

I now question why it is I feel more fear than hope. I believe it to lie in the fact I am already alive. I claim my being as my own and grow a fear of losing it. I may hope of a future, but this hope of a future as a being requires a present being, and as such it becomes a hope for that which already exists. It can be nothing more than a hope for a continuation, which seems to be no match in emotional gravity for a fear of a total loss of that which already exists.

With this in mind, to what extent can this disparity between hope and fear be viewed as a matter of perspective? Is this loss a matter of perspective?  In being given my life, death already seems to be a given. It seems to be in my terms and conditions of living, which cannot be altered. Thus, I may certainly come to view any existence after my life to be considered as a gift. I oftentimes do find myself holding this attitude as well.

However, may loss be perceived here as an actuality? Here, I am a being who must be, and who must die as well. As such, the only way to be is in being after death. Given I am already a being, the ultimate end to my being in this instance would be an ultimate loss, even if it is in my terms of existence. As an already existing being, the term of potential non-existence, is something outside of this present existence, namely it is the potential end of it. Because I am writing this and experience this in the specific time instance, both after the agreeing to the terms and conditions of my existence, and before the execution of these terms, I am stuck in the one time where the loss of my being constitutes an actual loss, namely the time when I am being.

I have now reached the point where I both view any being after death as a gift and yet recognize that in its actuality it is a loss. When reaching this point, a question persists:, is my life enough? Hitherto I have proclaimed to myself that yes, it must be enough. This is because I must necessarily be able to fulfill any cosmic purpose which exists in my life. However, when it comes to this dilemma, I am an existential being, and not just a cosmic or metaphysical happenstance. I do not see a point in reducing myself to something greater than myself.

As such, I am wondering if my life is enough to me.? Is the being of a being enough to the being? To answer this, I would like to imagine if I were to drop dead now. In this situation, I would deem my life to not be enough. I am twenty-one, and in the course of my life have had a lifetime worth of fantastic experiences, emotions, and human relationships. I would problematically answer this question with no, it is not enough. This implies something is missing.

      Given my life is fantastic now, and I feel fulfilled, that which is missing must be oriented towards the future. I then see it is as I am missing both the continued reassurance of future desirable experiences, as well as the future experiences to come.

In my life, there is far more I would like to experience and many more milestones I’d like to achieve. I would like to obtain a masters, a PhD, and pursue a career in academia. I find most of my future desires to be rooted in being more. More in the sense of more skillful, more knowledgeable, etc. Presently, I would like to dive further into the fields of logic and philosophy of science, learn Greek more thoroughly, and develop my abilities in physical activities such as rock climbing. Hence, while fulfilled now, my present self does not suffice when it comes to viewing my life as enough in the face of death. 

However, is there not always more to develop, to learn, and to work towards. As such, my life will never be enough if this is what I always base it off of. Of course, at the present moment, I am 21 with many aspirations. As time goes on I will presumably have worked towards many of these goals mentioned above or towards new goals. Here it is very plausible that I feel fulfilled, and I may declare my life to be enough or simply feel it to be so.

In this case, would I still require the reassurance of desirable future experiences? It is possible that I may need to be guaranteed future experiences, of laughter, joy, even simply passing the time in this case. Is it in this case that I fundamentally am a being which must always be? Or could it be that this entire dilemma and reflection is a symptom of my being a twenty-one year old with endless aspirations and a need for more, as I am?

If the permanent loss of my being is considered to be an actuality rather than an attitude, it should be independent of my age. Although, it seems plausible that my entire web of beliefs and world-view contribute to my fear of death, and perhaps my necessity of being lies centrally in this web. As such, it may not be an attitude, but it is very closely related to my world-view. However, I find this “‘need to be something”’ beyond my world-view, and I even question the plausibility of such a drastic change to it occurring.

I may now reach my tentative hypothesis: there will always be a fear of death to a being, if the being lives in endurable conditions and conceives of death as something which has the potential to put an eternal end to this being. As such, it appears this is not merely the result of my being twenty-one, but also the result of me needing to be in favorable conditions, which my conception of death threatens.

Were I to live in unfavorable conditions, my fear of death would be projected onto life, and my hope would be projected onto how I may escape said conditions. In this sense, I may consider myself lucky to even have this discussion, as it presupposes endurable conditions. However, of course, there are no favorites in the face of death.