“There is nothing to fear but fear itself.” This has been quoted countless times in various forms over the last century. I am sure it was quoted way before as well. I have fear. I am fearful of death. It doesn’t plague me, nor does it consume my every waking hour, but if someone asks me, I would say, “I am afraid of death.” I don’t believe in reincarnation. I don’t believe in an afterlife. When we die, we are no more. Thus, I fear death because someone can go from being alive to simply gone. It doesn’t matter that it is an inevitable fate for each one of us. The fact remains, being gone is devastating.

This blog is not about religion and it’s not about whether or not you believe in a god. I suspect many of you do believe in a god or gods. I respect your beliefs, please respect mine.

I would bet that we would all do anything we could to prevent the death of people whom we love. We would probably sacrifice our own life to save someone else – a child, mother, father, sibling, niece, nephew, other family members and friends. Okay, maybe some people would not, but I truly think most people would. So, now we have established this “fact”, let’s talk about the fear of losing our own life.

Airing one’s health woes on social media generates all kinds of responses. It’s interesting to me that some of those who read these posts have anything negative to say about a person’s choice to do so. I find it admirable when a person, who is ailing, pulls on an inner strength to reveal their disease/illness, describes the nuances of said disease/illness, speaks about their appreciation for certain things and of course airs their fears.

When I see other people post about their health, I am drawn in by their journey. I feel deep empathy and I want to know more so that I can understand what they are going through. I can never truly know what another feels as they go through their own story, none of us can. However, I do have my own benchmark, which does give me some semblance of what they are likely to be going through. That said, I have never been able to tell my entire story in a public forum. It’s not because I don’t want people to know. I don’t really mind people knowing my business when it comes to my health. When someone asks me, I will tell them, but never the whole story. This would take too long, for starters, but I become very detached when I talk about my health and thus I do omit key elements. It’s the only way to avoid getting emotional about it. A few close friends and family get to deal with that side!

I’ve tried to figure out why I get detached and I think it’s linked to my fear of death. If I allow myself to feel, that’s when the fear comes. What if I die while my kids are still young? This would devastate them. What if I die before my parents do? This would devastate them. What if I die before I get to the acceptable old age when one would say, “Well, she lived a very long and happy life, so it was time.”? This would devastate many. I say this without arrogant presumption, but merely knowing that I have a huge support system of friends and family who would be devastated if anyone within their “circles” passed away, particularly at a young age. The truth is death sucks no matter what age it happens and I am afraid.