(no subject)
I wrote this at work. I kinda like it but it needs work.
-------
I spend a lot of time making lists and plans and back-up plans and budgets but it's just another fixation for me. I focus on getting my papers in order, trying to decide what actions will make me happy in the future. the act of making these lists makes me feel happier when I'm anxious but then slowly this horrible feeling sets in about half way through. (Unless I'm interrupted, then the euphoria of feeling organized sticks.) I can only plan so much. there will come a day when there won't be anything left to plan because the only long term option is death and nothingness. I'm just spinning my wheels, waiting to die. Waiting to die for 50-60 years is not how I actively want to spend my life, but sometimes I can't control it. Nothing I'm doing to make myself happy in 5 years, 10 year, or 50 years makes a difference because someday I'm going to die. these are not welcome thoughts; they intrude my every day. They crop up when I start thinking about where I want to be in X years or what do I want to cook for dinner or when I am scheduling an appointment.I might be dead before this is really an issue.This thought is a termite in the house of my sanity. By no means is the house structurally sound, though the termites are by no means the only problem. My depression paranoia is a free-loading relative, eating all the snacks in my fridge.
-------
That's as far as I got. I'm thinking about turning it into a short story that is mostly a continuation of this metaphor. The only problem is that it will never have any rising action or climax or denouement. No plot to speak of. Because the story isn't over. At least a change has occurred in my life to where now these feelings about death are fleeting. and it's not a fixation on wanting to die. There was a while where that was a thing. Maybe for the sake of the story the house could completely collapse and as the story goes and the house becomes more decrepit I can write it in a disorganized and schizophrenic way that indicates that my sanity is slipping and at the end when the house has collapsed I'm dead or a ghost or something. Or life is starting over.
When I was little I was convinced that after you die you just watch your life play over and over until the Second Coming. I was sure that you didn't go to heaven or hell until then because in church we always said this prayer with a line "He shall come to judge the living and the dead" which implied to me that you don't move on right away. If we're already in heaven why would he need to judge us? He's saving is all for one trip. As I am now an atheist, I don't believe that Jesus is real or that he is coming to sort the good from the bad because we are all basically good and damn heaven would get crowded. Anyways. I still think that might be the case. I don't know. I'm not an expert on what happens after you die. Your body decomposes. Electricity no longer jumps from neuron to neuron. Probably nothing happens after we die. I'd rather believe that. But my inner child still thinks that Jesus isn't a part of it but we still just watch our lives on loop forever and ever and I'd better make things interesting.
-------
I spend a lot of time making lists and plans and back-up plans and budgets but it's just another fixation for me. I focus on getting my papers in order, trying to decide what actions will make me happy in the future. the act of making these lists makes me feel happier when I'm anxious but then slowly this horrible feeling sets in about half way through. (Unless I'm interrupted, then the euphoria of feeling organized sticks.) I can only plan so much. there will come a day when there won't be anything left to plan because the only long term option is death and nothingness. I'm just spinning my wheels, waiting to die. Waiting to die for 50-60 years is not how I actively want to spend my life, but sometimes I can't control it. Nothing I'm doing to make myself happy in 5 years, 10 year, or 50 years makes a difference because someday I'm going to die. these are not welcome thoughts; they intrude my every day. They crop up when I start thinking about where I want to be in X years or what do I want to cook for dinner or when I am scheduling an appointment.I might be dead before this is really an issue.This thought is a termite in the house of my sanity. By no means is the house structurally sound, though the termites are by no means the only problem. My depression paranoia is a free-loading relative, eating all the snacks in my fridge.
-------
That's as far as I got. I'm thinking about turning it into a short story that is mostly a continuation of this metaphor. The only problem is that it will never have any rising action or climax or denouement. No plot to speak of. Because the story isn't over. At least a change has occurred in my life to where now these feelings about death are fleeting. and it's not a fixation on wanting to die. There was a while where that was a thing. Maybe for the sake of the story the house could completely collapse and as the story goes and the house becomes more decrepit I can write it in a disorganized and schizophrenic way that indicates that my sanity is slipping and at the end when the house has collapsed I'm dead or a ghost or something. Or life is starting over.
When I was little I was convinced that after you die you just watch your life play over and over until the Second Coming. I was sure that you didn't go to heaven or hell until then because in church we always said this prayer with a line "He shall come to judge the living and the dead" which implied to me that you don't move on right away. If we're already in heaven why would he need to judge us? He's saving is all for one trip. As I am now an atheist, I don't believe that Jesus is real or that he is coming to sort the good from the bad because we are all basically good and damn heaven would get crowded. Anyways. I still think that might be the case. I don't know. I'm not an expert on what happens after you die. Your body decomposes. Electricity no longer jumps from neuron to neuron. Probably nothing happens after we die. I'd rather believe that. But my inner child still thinks that Jesus isn't a part of it but we still just watch our lives on loop forever and ever and I'd better make things interesting.