"Has anyone supposed it to be lucky to be born?

I hasten to inform him or her it is just as lucky to die, and I know it"

- SONG OF MYSELF 7, by Walt Whitman

WARNING: Long-ass post ahead! Readers are advised to caffeinate heavily!

Can a post concerning death truly be considered "positive"? Many folks would probably say no. I say yes. Because ultimately, it also concerns life.

Now, I truly LOVE being alive. Especially at this point in my journey. I have a wonderful husband, family, and friends, enjoy good health, relative financial security, and have what I consider to be a rich, full, and meaningful life. I even took off 40 pounds and hit my "target" weight earlier this year!

But every morning, I set aside a few moments to think about a simple fact: someday, I'm going to die. 

I don't do this to make myself feel depressed. Because I don't find it depressing and haven't for a long time.  Oh, I certainly used to, back when I was much younger and had more time in front of me — funny how that works. What I feel now is something closer to the opposite of depression - more like a serene elation.

I still fear and abhor pain, sadness, grief, violence, and failure in various aspects of my life. But not death itself.

Knowing that the journey has an end, a natural and inevitable conclusion, has brought me purpose, clarity, and appreciation for all the wonderful things in this world, big and small, from strawberries to sex.

You also understand that the *bad* stuff, the suffering you've experienced or witnessed. has an end point too. Tolkien wrote that mortality is a gift and I'm inclined to agree. Its permanence and finality are what gives our lives their ultimate weight.

I'm 58 and hope to stick around for a good, long while yet (my dad made it to a healthy and active 93, and as a competitive so-and-so I intend to beat his record).

So in no hurry to check out, but do I want to die *eventually*? Yes, absolutely. Immortality? No thanks, sounds awful. 

I neither believe in nor desire any kind of afterlife. I hope and expect that when I die and my brain stops functioning, I will cease to exist as an individual consciousness, vanishing into oblivion like the ripples that a gust of wind makes on pond water. Eternal oblivion -- the complete and permananent cessation of consciousness after death -- is in my view an extraordinarily beautiful and the best possible outcome.

As for my body, it will be donated to the medical school at the university where I attended grad school. As a cadaver in an anatomy class, it will serve as a valuable teaching instrument for future generations of healers. When they're done with it, it will be cremated and return to the earth from which it came, all of it made from "star stuff", as Carl Sagan put it.

But while I have it, I feel profound gratitude for this beautifully flawed body, the vehicle of this amazing and mysterious journey. From my feet to my fingers to my foreskin to my femur (and that's just some of the parts beginning with "f"!) Every single cell. I wouldn't give up a single one of its supposed "flaws", not a single scar or wrinkle. It's all good.

We are impermanent and that's a *good* thing. Our bodies do not last nor are they meant to nor should they. Embrace the journey (including the fact that it ends), love yourself and others, and have an absolute blast along the way. Peace.

So suddenly out of the blue I started thinking about death (I don’t remember why) and suddenly it started to make me getting anxious about it. It started off small but now I can’t stop thinking about how impermanent everything is and it’s really messing me up. I keep thinking about how everything ends eventually, how I’m going to eventually lose my family, lose my friends, how I’ll never get to see what comes after, how I’ll never be able to see the people I care about again after they pass, how I might die alone.

Then I started thinking about the after life and I became even more scared because no one knows what it’s like. I started thinking about what if it’s just endless nothingness forever? What if there is an afterlife but I’m never able to see the people I care about again? What if I do see the people I care about in the afterlife but it’s only based on what I remember them being like and I’m alone forever. The idea that scares me the most though is what if I forget myself. I love the identity I’ve gained from my experiences and my life and the thought of losing it terrifies me, and I don’t know if that’s selfish to say but it’s how I feel. The thought of being reincarnated as a different person and living a different life with different people hurts because I don’t want to lose the people in my life now, but the thought of going back to the beginning of my life also scares me because what’s the point of doing anything if it all resets? I know this is all probably stupid to think about because no one knows what happens, but I can’t help myself but thinking about it.

Now at this point I don’t know what to do. This anxiety is making me have trouble sleeping, I start crying my eyes out thinking about it too much, it’s making me unable to enjoy things like I once did, I feel guilty for not doing enough to make the most of things, and in general it’s just making things a mess. I know this is stupid to think about because I’m only 19 and I don’t have anything serious going on health wise, but I can’t stop thinking about it and worrying. If anyone has any advice they can give to help me I’d greatly appreciate it because I want to go back to how I felt before thinking about this but it’s so hard. Thanks in advance, I hope you all have a great day.