I was lying in bed last night when all of a sudden I realised I was going to die.
Dammit.
It’s been 16 hours and the feeling won’t go away. My university preferences are due in by Wednesday, and I would really prefer to do them without this shadow of dread. Any suggestions?
You could use that realisation to spur you into action; i.e. trying to fit as many things in to the (hopefully long) time that you have; don’t be so afraid of dying that you forget to live.
I got this feeling on a plane once was I was 23. I became obssessed with it for about 5 years. I read all kinds of religion, metaphysics, and other stuff trying to find a way around it. I eventually invented my own pretty good theory that reincarnation is a property of any type of infinite universe. Because we know we have a nonzero probability of existing (as our current selves) then both the theories of a Big Crunch end to the universe and the theory infinite universes mean that we will live again and again as some version as ourselves as endless universes get created and destroyed.
I found this comforting for a while and then it really got disturbing. Many of those lives are going to be filled with pain and misery and there is no way out. I quit thinking about that after a while.
Now that I am thirty-two, I have found that having a child has greatly taken my mind off of mortality. The thought of death just isn’t that scary. I have also started to realize that the world is very big but it is still finite. A normal lifespan is plenty of time to do what you want as long as you plan well. After a while, it gets a bit repetitive and mundane. I figure that by the time I am 80, I will be more than willing to go.
Sex usually takes my mind off of that.
But then, sex usually will take my mind off of anything. 
You could get ahead of your future university peers and start doing hard drugs right now.
No offense but you should be getting your ass out of bed and starting to live 
You have realised you only have a limited time on this planet - so get out there and have some fun. If you want to take your mind off how terrible it is that you have such a short life go volunteer in a hospice for terminally ill children - that’s one heck of a wake up call to appreciate the life you have. Brooding is only going to make you unhappy so stop thinking and start DOING 
I think about dying all the time. I think it makes me a better driver.
Story of my life. It was one of those things that’s always entered my mind at inopportune times, but about 5 years ago it just stuck, and has since become a bit of a constant, a lifestyle. I had anxiety attacks and stuff at first, but have since just learned to live with the constant existential dread.
Oh, and the whole “if you’re worried about that, bro, you need ta LIVE!” answer is retarded, lazy bullshit. Just because you’re too blinded by your mundane day-to-day life to ever experience a bit of perspective about your own mortality doesn’t mean that those that are sensitive and intuitive enough to do so are somehow sniveling cowards. I’ve already accomplished 98% of my life goals at age 25, and many of them were damned-near unattainable.
Admit it; storing the piano by suspending it on ropes from the bedroom ceiling was always just a bad idea.
csharpmajor, I understand what you mean. The nagging suspicion that one day your life will end and thus be rendered moot. Or perhaps the futility doesn’t bother you as much as the whole “not existing anymore” thing. In other words, the fear of What Comes After. Or, perhaps, you wonder if anything comes after at all.
While VCO3 has a point in that you don’t need to ignore your mortality, the others made equally good points that you don’t need to dwell on it. It’s not healthy to spend your life worrying about death. I think it rather hurries the process.
Dying is part & parcel of the package deal, my friend. And it’s normal to find the prospect unappetizing. You’re just going to have to find your own way 'round it.
I’ll give you a personal anecdote. When I was in high school, about 16 or 17 perhaps, I went with my parents to the funeral of a great-uncle. He was my mother’s uncle, and accordingly he looked absolutely nothing like her. While my mother is small, Uncle Kelly was a big, big man. 3 bucks and change, easy. In other words, over three hundred pounds.
The funeral procession broke up at a red light on the way to the cemetary. So, the hearse and a handful of people got there first. That also meant I became an honorary pallbearer. I had to help haul Kelly’s big, fat ass up that hill.
That made quite the impression on my teenage self. I didn’t quite understand what that impression was until I read this bit from Frank Herbert: “To suspect your own mortality is to know the beginning of terror, to learn irrefutably that you are mortal is to know the end of terror.”
Holding on to that brass rail in the rain with two hands so I wouldn’t drop it put to rest any doubts in my mind that I would die one day. My subsequent approach to life has been much more light-hearted (though not less cynical, if that makes any sense). YMMV. Do not put in ear. May be harmful if swallowed.
Might I propose something?
We are all going to die. Death is frightening. Rationally, we should all be in a state of abject terror because, well, WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!!
So here’s my proposition. This is one of those things that being brutally honest with yourself about is really counterproductive. Yep, you’re going to die, and that sucks. To deny the reality of that conundrum is delusory. To live every waking moment ruminating on it is inviting insanity. The healthy middle ground is you just don’t think about it. Call it denial, call it self-imposed ignorance, it’s a fact that if you live every moment fearful of you inevitable demise you will certainly lessen the quality of those finite waking moments, and that’s a lose-lose proposition.
So don’t worry about it. Not because you’ve nothing to worry about, but because it does you no good to be fully cognizant all the time of your horrible fate. There isn’t a damn thing you can do about it.
If you can’t let go of that gnawing anxiety, seek therapy. Seriously. This is one of those cases where being right about something is the wrong way to go about this. At least learnt to procrastinate about your fear of death a little. You’ve got the time.
Intense physical activity has always helped me.
Go swimming at the pool, bike ride, go running, pump iron.
I once read where this guy said that the trick to not dying is to keep breathing. That’s my plan; keep breathing no matter what.
Seriously, there’s good reason to be terrified beyond belief about dying. Just consider what happened the other day with those 24 elderly folks being burned alive in that bus the other day whie trying to escape hurricane Rita. They were no doubt decent and kindly people; yet, the forces-that-be (God), apparently didn’t have a problem with them getting into a situation whereby they’d all experience that agonizing pain and terror a human can experience – being BURNED ALIVE!
Reality is a bad place to be, but what can us poor mortals do about it? Not a lot.
I’m with Bos. Go work out.
Perhaps killing every single last one other living organism on the planet will help you cope. Yeah, you’re going to die, but at least you won!
How’s that for a hobby? Might be a little hard to do though, most bigger organisms will fight back.
Watch a few episodes of Get Smart.
Oh, shit. Well, Bosda’s plan is good too.
In the end, this is one of those things you need to think about for a while and then make your peace with, because long-term you can’t do anything about it one way or the other. You’ll either die someday or you won’t. If you can’t ignore it yet, use it. Knowing you don’t have forever to do things can be a good source of motivation and a good reason to ignore your nerves and do what you want. Try that, it’s energizing.
Thank you, John Madden.
Eat chocolate and you’ll feel better. If you’re going to go, you might as well be fed with good stuff before you get there.
I happen to know John Madden is going to die soonish, and a turducken will be involved. I can’t go into details, but trust me- don’t miss the Cowboys-Broncos game on Thanksgiving.
Mayhaps he’ll choke on three or four legs…simultaneously.