I recently wrote about how the “new” world we live in had taken my mind down an uncomfortable path that just wasn’t usually me. A little while ago, that continued to happen.
After a bad dream just now (one that was like my norm in some ways, but had a couple new twists to it), I woke up thinking a lot more about mortality than I usually would. But it’s not from a fear of dying from COVID; it mostly stems from seeing all the pictures and stories about it lately, and wondering if something very grim could be happening for the world’s near and distant future.
As I’ve mentioned too often in the past, I have been living with enough regret to fill a novel. And how the doubt that I’ll ever conquer the issues that caused that regret (combined with how I’m just not the type that can easily let the past go, especially while my current life is such a disappointment) means that I could easily be taking a ton of baggage to my grave.
I can’t imagine what it would be like to feel that way. On your deathbed, alone. Being unable to shake the thought that your life, which was always an emotional struggle during the best times anyway, peaked in your early 30s. And after that, failure overtook most things from that point on.
That you let SO much potential go to waste before long. If I listed what I’ve accomplished in my life at some point…..from sports to academics to career…..you wouldn’t even believe it was the same person who writes this blog today.
But that despite those strengths and abilities, you weren’t strong enough to battle through the bad habits, the weakness, the unhappiness, and so many other demons. That too often, you barely even made a dent in those. Despite having a very long time to find a way to.
And that in the end, the world got the best of you.
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