I would rather die in my sleep, than being told I have a certain amount of time to live by.

Because that’s what I always saw death as, just permanent sleep.

Why would I need to be? I’m not going to have to live with the aftermath.

My loved ones dying, now there’s a problem.

Fuck no. I’m terrified.

In my life I had 3 near-death experiences. All three were close calls, with one being so so so damn close that I felt my body shutting down and it was the most dreading sensation ever.

If anything, those experiences led me to realize that I still have lots to do before even thinking I’m ready to go.

In first grade I dreamed of taking my own life because I was miserable. I guess I instinctively knew my mother hated my existence. She stored a 5 gallon bucket nearly full of paint thinner in my closet that leaked and I lived in that for around 6 months before she “found” it. We had a garage and a basement so why store it in a child’s closet? She confirmed that when she later told me while drunk that she had her whole life planned out and then she had me.

I was an outcast in school. I’ve been literally thrown on the ground and kicked so badly the school sent me to the hospital because they were worried about internal bleeding. I didn’t even know the kid and was locking my bicycle up and blind sided that time.

I was molested by my cousin. Told I was worthless by my mother and her boyfriends, forced to eat adult sized food portions from a young age. Thrown on the ground and had my head shoved in the gravel because I couldn’t keep a grip on an old trash water heater and dropped it by her boyfriend/2nd cousin. Punched by him because I didn’t find something fast enough. Among other things.

Ended up married to a woman who had multiple miscarriages, had a son born 3 months premature who died in the NICU at 9 days old. Eventually gave up on the idea of children after another miscarriage. She was injured at work and got hooked on pain killers, then decided to leave me.

My second wife passed away after a long illness. I woke up one morning to find her warm and not breathing. I started CPR and nearly lost it when I broke her ribs.

I’m also considered high intelligence. My iq is around 140. I honestly feel like a failure.

Feel free to feed the following prompts into your favorite Ai and let it do the math.

What would an assumed IQ of a 3rd grade child be if they were told they were ranked in the top ten percentile of children through standardized testing.

And in 8th grade the same child was told that their standardized testing showed they had all of their scores ranked at a minimum of a sophmore in college with some area’s being closer to graduate school levels what would their assumed IQ be.

I literally relive my life all the time with memories playing in my head on repeat while I process them. It’s a form of C-PTSD caused by my experiences and intelligence. I also deal with recurring headaches and body pain. I truly only feel at peace when I am under water.

I’ve nearly died a couple times for various reasons. I nearly had my foot ripped off by a machine while working construction. My hands are all scarred from injuries. I made peace with my life ending years ago. I’m not suicidal I just don’t really care.

Couple months ago, I woke up to chest pain. Pain that I couldn’t get rid of. I’m going through my morning routine trying not to think about it, but it just keeps getting worse. Then it starts radiating out towards my left arm and I am feeling really nervous. I was going to text a friend, but then decided that it was stupid and just drove myself to the nearest emergency room (because of course I wouldn’t waste money on an ambulance, I’m an american, we live in hell). I came in feeling faint and dizzy and emotional and that blasted pain just kept getting worse. I remember the receptionist taking her fucking time.

Finally get a nurse to see me and she does an 12 lead EKG and has me hold up my sweatshirt while she’s applying them, and while she’s doing it, I end up fainting. I wake up almost immediately, but now I’m terrified. I told her I smoked a little weed to try to calm myself down, and now that’s all she cares about, wheels me back out into the waiting area so I can piss in a cup for her. At this point, I feel like they don’t care, my symptoms aren’t being taken seriously, and if I faint again, I’m gonna die in this shitty rural hospital.

So I piss in the fucking cup, fire off a few texts to people I care about, and I lay down on the hospital bed when just… a feeling of complete calm and relief descended upon me. Wherein I was like “well, shit happens, and not everybody can achieve all their goals. You were kind, and that’s all that really matters.” and there I was, just, completely accepting of what I assumed would be a swift death.

Then the doc came in and said “your EKG is fine, your troponin levels (when you have a heart attack your heart releases “help me” signals via this molecule, troponin) are normal, you just have a bad case of COVID.” I was floored. I mean, being sick is better than dying, but I was also just… ready to die? They disconnected my IV and shit and sent me on my way. Walked out into the night back to my car in such a daze.

But hey, I know when I die I’ll feel a sense of peace and relief that one can only dream of. Imagine winning the lottery and knowing you’ll be OK for the rest of your life. I imagine that it carries around the same level of peace I felt on that bed waiting for death.

Not really, I really don’t wanna die.

My entire existence is bizzare as fuck.

I was supposed to be terminated under the One Child Policy since I was the 2nd one, but somehow I managed to live and survive till birth.

I’ve always had existential crisis about it ever since my mom told me about it.

No I don’t wanna die. I’m scared. But I’m also feeling suicidal simultaneously, but also wtf brain stop it, I wanna live, wtf r u doing brain, stop thinking about suicide.

so… yeah… brain is weird…

I’d panic…

I remember once seeing a nuclear mushroom cloud outside my window… then the electronics died to the emp… then I woke up…

It was a dream…

I think I was just full with adrenaline…

I think biology will take over and survival instincts will make me scare af at my final hour.

Its why people believe in spirts and souls and stuff… its literally biology… coping mechanism…

I sort of believe in reincarnation too… yes I know its probably copium… but otherwise I’d be an even bigger puddle of depression.

I sometimes wonder if “god” intervened and that why I was born… cuz normally you’d just become an aborted fetus in China. They say 400 million government forced abortions in China… but somehow I lived. Bizzare.

Great ice breaker tho, I haven’t really told anyone IRL yet… I kinda tried to stop thinking about it for the past 10 years since it constantly get me thinking: what if I was never born

My mom keeps reminding me about it. I get a burst of existential crisis every time… her words sounds so… like… it makes the entire atmosphere dark whenever my mom retells my “origin story”.

I’m only scared of the pain that comes immediately before and the pain inflicted on my loved ones. Otherwise, if thinking purely selfishly, I wouldn’t mind much. I had a goodorun but now i’m exhausted of life in general.

I am not emotionally prepared to die because I’m not ready to die. I still have shit to do

Dying is the easy part. Living meaningfully? I’m looking for ways to improve that.

Yes, I’m only worried about it being painful and my partner having to raise my son alone until she finds someone else. I’m much more worried about losing mobility and or faculties as I age, it can be devastating.

Why be afraid of my energy returning to the universe from whence it came?

I would bet that a lot of the folks who think they’re emotionally prepared aren’t. That is absolutely not a criticism of anyone. Death is so final and such an enormous concept that a lot of people just can’t comprehend it until death is staring them in the face.

It does scare me a bit, but I’ve thought about death and non-existence from time to time and gotten more comfortable with it. Not totally comfortable but it doesn’t horrify me anymore.

Yes.

Sometimes the thought of dying relaxes me.

If I was, I would BE dead. What is the advantage to being alive if you are no longer emotionally attached to it?