Death scares me

It’s Christmas Day. I’m walking through a cemetery and am reminded of how many billions of us have died throughout history. It's the one certainty of life.

The Church bells ring. Sure, death is to be expected. But we die alone, helpless and ultimately ignorant of what’s to come, that’s my issue with death.

I’m assuming here, like most people in Britain, that nothing happens after death - but no one knows for sure.

When I studied Philosophy, my first essay was on whether death is bad or not. Five years on, I don’t think it’s necessarily bad. But it’s damn scary.

I often tell people my fear of dying. I usually get one of three responses:

1. Before you were born, you didn’t experience the nothingness. Death will be the same.

2. You won’t know when you’re dead, so what difference does it make?

3. There’s an afterlife. Don’t worry

Annoyingly, none of these answers put my fear to rest:

1. Before I was born there was nothing to lose.

2. I know now that I’ll be dead. That’s scary.

3. That’s probably even scarier.

What scares me the most about death is the idea that my entire existence - my body, my mind - will disappear at some point. The way I experience life, through my eyesight and all the other senses, will just stop. Everything that I know and live for will vanish.

Just knowing that all the things that makes up my life will end one day and never come back is what terrifies me. That’s it. No more living, doing, thinking. Nothing.

I think this stems either to or from my fear of things ending in general. But this is the ultimate ending. Like, what the hell? Nothing?!

Of course, this doesn’t mean that life is worthless, even if it seems like there’s no point bothering. You can, and should, still live it to the fullest and make the most of it before it ends - especially if this is all we have.

Knowing the ending doesn’t ruin the rest of the journey. And in a way, knowing that nothing sort of matters, really, is liberating - just enjoy life and don’t worry about the small things or what’s to come afterwards.

But, still, the sheer thought of nothingness following the everythingness makes me go back to square one - scared of death.

Merry Christmas.