The eternal question

January 9, 2017

I entertained the idea of writing one of those “My Year in Review” posts, and even started jotting down some notes. Then I decided… fuck that. New blog, new stuff. This is nothing to do with the new year, by the way. The whole idea of New Year’s resolutions is really pretty stupid, in my own, humble opinion. I was inspired by Wil Wheaton’s life reboot posts, and several months ago I started seriously analyzing my own life, and only half seriously taking on a similar project.

I’m going through something of a mid-life crisis I suppose. I’m about to turn forty-one in just a few months, and I’ve spent a lot of time contemplating just how little time I have left in this world even if I make it to eighty years of age. It felt like my child hood went agonizingly slow. Then the last twenty years or so flew by me so fast that the thought of what ever is left of my life flying by even faster, quite frankly scares the shit out of me.

It’s not so much death that scares me. I have no idea what is there, if anything. I have reasons to believe there is something there, something more than what we’re able to perceive in this existence, something that connects us all. Sometimes I am sure that I have memories of a past life. Then sometimes my pessimism gets the best of me and I become convinced that there is nothing. You just cease to exist and it’s no different than before you were born. Sometimes that theory offers me comfort because, if that is the case, I won’t know it so it won’t matter. Other times, that theory terrifies me even more because it means that this tiny, insignificant amount of time that we’re alive is all that we have, which seems devastatingly unfair to me.

What is more immediate though, is trying to figure out how to make what little time I have meaningful. I don’t mean in a grand scheme of things, making my mark on the world kind of way because that really is horse shit. Of the billions of people that have come and gone during Earth’s history, only a very tiny, nearly minuscule percentage have done anything that could be called a “lasting legacy”.

No, I just want to do something that makes my life meaningful to me. So at least I can die feeling like I spent my time well. As it stands, I feel like I’ve spent most of my life just surviving, just getting by, navigating one unfortunate situation after another. My childhood was a shit show, courtesy of my mentally ill mother. The more I talk with my therapist, the more I realize just how much damage she did. In the last decade, things have calmed down considerably. I’ve actively worked at removing the toxic influences from my life, and changing my own bad behaviors. I feel like I’m finally getting somewhere. I feel like I’ve reached a point where I can stop focusing on just getting by, and start making it a point to live.

I just have no idea how to do that.

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