Crisis

A piece of my mind

I was 6 years old, at least I think I was. A weird though came to my mind. «I am Mariana. That is my name». I started thinking about how it was all so weird: names, identities. I don't remember if I figured out why at the time. I guess It just felt overwhelming to think of my self as an individual you see? I was no longer just me, I was someone. Other people saw me in their own perspective just like I saw them. I don't know if that makes sense to you, I cannot make sense out of it, but I always wondered if other people had the same thoughts.

Later on I thought, but I mean, really thought about death for the first time. I still do. I read books about it, i saw posts and documentaries searching for answers. I never found them. Sometimes I get confused «Why», others I get depressed, but mostly, I get angry.

People who never felt like I did would probably ask why on earth would I get angry: It's just life, they say, you can't control it. Well, exactly. Since you are born, every-damn-body urges you to »be«. They teach you, they raise you. We build up hopes and dreams, I know I did. And then one day, out of the fucking blue, you have an existential crisis. For those who don't know what it is, let me break it down to you: It's when you think about how vain existence is. It's when you wonder, over and over again, what's the point.

And after your first crisis, you are never the same. One day we will leave this world, and no one is sure about what happens after that. Ever since we were kids everyone was straight forward about it. What they weren't able to pass on was the real meaning, but I understand, I am not even sure I can. You won't leave, you won't anything because you're dead. There will be no you. Your body will remain and decompose. But what about my mind? 

I love thinking ever since I realized I have been taking it for granted. I am able to develop complex thoughts and feelings. I never want to be unable to. Forget about souls, I want my mind to survive. I want my mind to survive and being an atheist, I don't believe in any of the common afterlife theories. For me, there's no heaven or hell, no final judgement. 

For me, the only possible outcome would be that the atoms of our brains remained alive, and that somehow they would remember  their former organism and reattach. And that being the craziest thing I have ever thought of, still makes more sense than all godly theories. 

Criticize me all you want. Yes I am overthinking. Maybe I am in denial. Maybe this is all a really big existential crisis secondary effect. Nevertheless, I am still angry. Angry at the fact that I don't know and angry at the fact that the only way I could ever find out, would be dying. 

I am Terrified of Dying.