I should think that being unable to avenge your father’s murder would be pretty far up there as well.
Yeah, that has gotten me pretty worked up from time to time.
That my psycho brother’s behaviour will escalate to the point where he makes good on his threats and tries to kill me, but doesn’t succeed and instead leaves me permanently incapacitated.
I am much more afraid of my wife’s death, than of my own. Being alive without her around sounds like hell on earth.
Sorry, I didn’t read all of the OP, under the rules set out: spiders.
Yes, my wife and family may be more upset about my cancer than me. As long as I go quickly, I am gone. I just fear a lingering, painful, helpless, hooked up to tubes death. Must get my advanced directives signed.
I don’t like traps. Being jailed would drive me nuts very quickly. Becoming homeless seems like a one-way trip, which would make it so much worse than just wandering around outdoors. Really any situation that is impossible to get out of. Drowning, suffocation as others have mentioned. Yikes!
The curse of the gods.
centipedes.
Perhaps oddly enough, death really doesn’t frighten me much at all. The part of it that does scare me is how it affects those I love and in leaving things that I really want to get done unfinished. And it’s those two things that carry over to non-death things as well. It’s terrifying to think that something I’ve done or will do or will leave undone will end up causing pain or harm to people I love, like saying something in anger that hurts them, or not fulfilling an expectation for them, or not being able to help them in a time of need. I guess it’s not really all that different in getting things done that I really want to because those are tasks or creations or causes or whatever that I am passionate about and failing to make a contribution to them that I feel I’m capable of is equally terrifying.
Financial instability, and physical decrepitude.
Both of these probably stem from my own self-image: one of the things I’m most proud of is that I have not had to rely financially on anyone but myself since I was about 20 or so (I’m in my early 30s), and I also take some (admittedly slightly silly) pride in being tough and physically able (i.e. a big strong man).
Being stuck in a cave with my arms pinned to my sides. Alone. Sure, death is a real possibility, but even if there is a rescue in 72 hours, those would be a horrifying 72 hours.
I guess that’s why I don’t go caving alone very often.
I don’t fear death. It will happen at some point and I’m ok with it. I’m also ok with no afterlife. The world was ok before me and will be ok after.
What I fear is being a shell forced to live on by artificial means. Also, I fear losing my mind and regressing to a childlike state unable to care for myself. I also fear having my mind left intact but having an unresponsive body.
Becoming penniless. So much so that I spend just about every waking moment trying to figure out ways of accumulating more and more money in more and more ways. I’ve been consumed by this obsession since I was a teenager. I don’t really care about much of anything else, to the consternation of my family and colleagues.
Death? Couldn’t care less. Pain? bring it on. Solitude? I am an island. But reach for my moolah and you’ll pull back a stump.
That I’m *missing *something. Like, something great and unspoken, shared by everybody else on earth, that’s so obvious and universal that it goes without mention or even definition.
Torture
Torture, or other on-going excruciating pain without hope of relief.
Some of the other answers in the thread could be viewed as subcategories of torture: drowning, brain damage, dependence on people who hate you, etc. Interestingly though, I have trouble imagining a good way of torturing someone by forcing them into public speaking.
Getting old.
Death is a close second, but not #1.
Fear that my husband and I will somehow fall apart, or that our love for each other will die. We have a special thing and if it went away, I’d feel hollow and confused and lost.
Hearing that Minnie Riperton high note.
Biscuits that don’t rise.