Several have mentioned fear of great pain or debilities, even suggesting suicide if that happens (e.g., diagnosis of dementia). Certainly, greatly to be feared is the possibility that it suddenly happens and you are too incapacitated to commit suicide (if indeed you would ever have really done that). Then you are trapped and doomed to live arbitrarily long in a bed in a nursing home (if you are lucky enough to rate even that), where the kindly nurses will come in and turn you over twice a day (so the bed sores will be more evenly distributed), and sprinkle a little water on you once in a while. And there will be nothing you can do about it.
That’s my ambition. Except the old part.
As for my worst fear: spiders.
Being a burden to my partner, who is 20 years my junior. Alzheimer’s runs in my father’s side of the family, and I’d never want my partner to go through what my mother went through with him.
And yes, I absolutely believe that suicide is a valid option.
A close second: drowning.
I’d prefer to go like a friend of my aunt’s. He’d had a good life and was in his late 70s. He was walking down the street and just died - an aneurysm I believe - suddenly.
Insomnia.
After my darling wife’s death, I fear more than anything never finding another nice lady to take care of.
One is the loneliest number that can ever be.
Torture. The concept horrifies me more than I can describe.
What do I fear more than death? Life.
That used to be an honest answer, but fortunately I’ve grown out of feeling that way.
Actually, I don’t fear death itself at all. An afterlife would be interesting, but if it’s nothingness I won’t know the difference anyway.
Dying slowly frightens me. Pain and helplessness would be awful.
I couldn’t think of anything I’m really afraid of until I saw olivesmarch4th’s post. I agree torture would be awful so hope it never happens. I’m not afraid of dying. Not that I want to anytime soon but when it happens it’ll be kind of neat to find out how that works.
Chronic illness and pain. I’ve seen my husband go through that for a while now and I just can’t imagine ever having to deal with that for the rest (or entirety) of your life.
Makes my stomach flop just to think about it.
I’m scared of going to Hell – but maybe that falls under the “death” category so I’ll pick another thing …
Being physically or mentally dependent on others for my survival. I don’t want PandaKid to have to spend years taking care of me. That said I deeply respect those who do care for their parents in that way. I realize it’s simply not an option for many people but for those who are able to and choose to … wow.
It’s a tie between two diametrically opposed fears:
[ul][li]Failure, and[/li]success.[/ul]
Being dependent on people who hate me and feel contempt for me.
I fear purposelessness. The concept that I lived here on earth for no reason; that the things I accomplished, created, learned and contributed meant nothing.
Moving back in with my mother.
I’m not afraid of death, that’s just oblivion. I wasn’t afraid before I was born, so it makes no sense that I might be afraid after I’m dead. But my #1 fear is that dying would hurt. Hopefully by the time I’m nearing the end of my life, we’ll have humane and painless doctor-assisted suicide. I’d definitely leave a few years sooner if I were assured there would be no pain. Just go to sleep… and stay asleep forever.
An extended stay helpless in a nursing home. I feel so sorry for the people that it means so much every Friday when I come through and let them spend a few minutes petting my dog. Worse yet, my wife’s grandmother that lay comatose for 10 years. I must get my advance directives signed.
Having a child that turns out to be severely autistic or has some other developmental disorder that makes day-to-day life difficult. Worst nightmare.
Being waterboarded by enormous arachnids. No really,that would scare the living shit out of me.
Apart from that, and well-documented arachnophobia aside, I think my greatest fear would involve being responsible for others, and being unable to prevent something horrible happening to them as a result of a decision I’d made. Physical harm to myself I can cope with because one way or another it will end, but I can’t bear to see it happening to someone else. The thought of being responsible for it is too much.
Senescence.
As Jacques Brel sang, “Dying, that’s nothing ! Dying, big deal. But growing old…”
I second this. The thought of dying no longer bothers me; it’s eventual and will arrive whether I want it to or not. I used to be terrified of Alzhiemer’s,but I’m confident that by the time I’m in that window a cure will be found.
I find it funny that once I stopped believing in any kind of Afterlife ( No God, no Devil, no Hell, no Heaven, no Overmind), it was then that I realized that this altogether too short shot at Life; this wonderful gift that we are given and spend most of our time trying to figure out what to do with, is our one and only shot at making a difference. That realization is the most awesome and terrifying thought I can think of. Did I parent properly, will I leave a legacy of kindness and joy behind? Did I make even one person’s life better in some small way? I’ll never really know.