Someday I will die. I will cease to live. I will no longer be. I am haunted constantly by the notion of the unknown. I will die. I will be gone forever and I don’t know how are when. Oh, please let it be painless. Let it be easy. Let it be when I am old and ready. When I have discovered the world and myself. I know we are, not one of us, luck enough to know when. But I pray I may be ready. Let my daughter be grown and her own person, that she may not live out her younger years without me. Oh, god…how do we deal with it all? That someday we we all die, each of us, and be left to the bedrock to be forgotten…
These are the thoughts that keep me up at night and cause my constant panic attacks. Though we try and live are lives as normal as possible, though we try to forget, our time is borrowed. We are temporary. Control what we may in our lives, it is the one thing we cannot.
I have often imagined myself glimpsing at a flicker of future possibilities. But only a flicker is all I am able to digest. Much more than that and I feel that old ache in my chest again. It is a strange phenomenon and one that provides no comfort. It starts in the center of my chest and spreads slowly to the rest of my body. I feel like I’m dying. What else could it be? It is not the feeling of control, of life, of hope. It is fear. I am terrified. It feels like my body has fallen asleep and is slowly waking. Much like an arm or foot too long forgotten. I don’t want to die. But no one does, right?
They say that this life has so much possibility, endless doors to open. I have not seen them. They are boarded up windows and I wish to bring in the light. I have no hope for myself. This world has presented me with no opportunities, no goals, no dreams, no admiration. I am condemned to the poverty so graciously bestowed upon me. I have no car, no phone, no job. I live with my parents at the edge of the world. I place too far and forgotten to be bothered with. The closest store miles away and the closest neighbor a complete stranger. I feel horrible alone and lost. What am I to do? I once had the notion to dream of better things for myself and my daughter. But I alone am the grand ruin of our lives. I could not keep a job. I lost our home. I lost our car. It is all my fault. I wish, more than you could imagine, for hope again. For a chance to be happy and live the lives we deserve. But I am lost and troubled and sad. What good could I possibly do?