Is it fear of your own death ?? or something else ??
In my school days I used to dream that I failed in an exam and wake up dejected. ( Though I never failed in an exam during my entire studies !
).
how about you ??
Is it fear of your own death ?? or something else ??
In my school days I used to dream that I failed in an exam and wake up dejected. ( Though I never failed in an exam during my entire studies !
).
how about you ??
Only if there’s a shark involved.
Growing old.
And not growing old.
I didn’t say it made sense.
That I have grown too sceptical of love and will never allow myself to feel it again.
That, and physical torture.
Gotterdammerung (needs oomlauts).
I worry about anything catastrophic involving my kids, but right now their lives are lived on such a scale that I have a lot of control
( ::knockwood:knockwood:knockwood:: ).
Something big, though, and I’d be powerless.
I’m not afraid of death. Once it’s happened, I’m–well, I’m dead. I won’t be fearing anything then.
I’m overwhelmingly terrified of nursing homes, however. Purgatory Man has his orders.
Opus just showed my greatest fear!
Actually, I’m afraid of falling from a ladder or some medium height (15 to 30 feet). Lower falls I’ll probably be OK, greater ones and I’ll most likely die. It’s the middle ones that will turn me into a quadriplegic who is paralyzed from the eyebrows down. Any time I have to climb on my roof to clean the gutters I’m a nervous wreck. I’m usually so shaken up afterwards that I’ll throw up in the bushes.
Pool drains, ladders and industrial fans in the roof of a building, like at Lowe’s [shudder].
Bears, horses, things that bump against my leg while I wading in the river.
I fear the loss of my mental faculties, or some portion of them. Part of this has to do with being an academic and earning my living from my brain. Part of it is just the horror of losing one’s mind (which unfortunately runs a bit in my dad’s side of the family).
And the thought of anything happening to my daughter fills me with abject terror.
Alzheimer’s. It runs in my family and it certainly looks like a lonely, frightening existence.
I am afraid of out living my spouse.
I am afraid of becoming my mother, (this fear is subsiding as I grow older, but it will never completely leave me, I’m sure.)
I’m afraid that by the time I’m aged and infirm some idiot doctor will have found a way to extend life endlessly. Yikes!
I fear becoming old before I’ve found love. Unfortunately, it seems to be happening.
You took my advice, right?
Rats.
Facing down the barrel of a gun and knowing the end will come in mere seconds.
Carnies.
I am terrified that my husband might die before I do, and I would be destitute. I don’t have skills that can bring in much money, my health prevents me from working outside my home, and none of my friends or relatives are wealthy.
My husband is a very healthy man, and he neither smokes nor drinks. But accidents can happen to anyone. Without him, I would not only be desperately lonely, but desperately poor. We are living on the edge of poverty now. If my husband were gone, the edge would dissolve and I’d fall into the pit.
My greatest fear is probably the darkness I see within my self, the potential to turn into a depressed, anxious, hateful wreck of a human being.
I guess that and dying alone. Dying not so much, but loneliness is a bitch.
I fear dieing a long slow death. Watching my dad die from emphysema was terrible. I hope I go quickly.
Spiders. With guns. Riding a tsunami.
I don’t wanna go in no nursing home. I’d rather go hand to hand with a great white shark.
Death. The thought that there may not be an afterlife and that me, my loved ones, my memories, and my knowledge will all just cease to exist one day. And that everyday, every second, I am getting closer to that moment.