Think Outside the Box

LOL!

4 reasons why I won’t be switching to self-hosted anytime soon.

Digitally generated My brain has too many tabs open

Not very long ago, Opinionated Man migrated his popular blog, HarsH ReaLiTy, from WordPress.com to WordPress.org. I remember reading his stream-of-consciousness posts while he climbed WP.org’s very steep learning curve, and I got headaches and felt twitchy just reading them. Although OM was often frustrated and sometimes seemed ready to give up, he didn’t, and he now claims that becoming self-hosted was the best blogging decision he ever made. I don’t doubt he’s telling the truth, as being self-hosted allows you all sorts of options and freedoms you do not have as a WordPress.com blogger.

But you can count me out, at least for the foreseeable future. I’m a serious blogger, yes, but WordPress.com suits my needs just fine. Here are four reasons why I have no intention of ever becoming self hosted.

1. The community.
When you become a WordPress.com member, it’s easy to find a community of like-minded WordPress bloggers via the Reader, which makes suggestions based on your interests, and posts all new articles by blogs you’re already following. For new bloggers, this feature is a godsend. ALl you do is “follow” blogs that are suggested to you based on your interests and voila! Instant community! When you follow blogs you like, they’re likely to follow you back too, and before you know it, you are commenting on each other’s blogs.

When you self-host, you lose all that. You have to be more concerned about things like your Google page ranking and be a lot more careful tagging posts, otherwise your blog may not get seen by the people you want to see it. Or not at all. And if you’re self hosted, you don’t have access to the Reader; you have to find related blogs on your own. Your posts also won’t be automatically seen by other WP bloggers, since WP.org hosted sites do not show up in the Reader. If you prefer to spend time writing new content than recruiting an audience for your blog, then being on WP.com saves you a whole lot of time.

2. The steep learning curve.
Wordpress.com is simple to use, compared to WordPress.org. While it does have a learning curve, it isn’t very steep. After 3 – 4 days I was comfortable using the features. I felt like a pro in a couple of weeks. There are plenty of options for customization even if you use a free theme and don’t upgrade. For this blog, I wasn’t satisfied with the font used for the free Twenty-Ten theme (one of WP’s most popular free themes), so I upgraded to Custom Design, so I had the option of changing the font to one I liked better. Custom Design is cheap and gave me a few other options too, but CSS (which is available with Custom Design) still eludes me. I know nothing about coding and fortunately, really don’t have to worry about that anyway, since everything I want to do is available to me without knowing any coding at all.  For a small price, you can also have a custom domain (which is necessary if you want to run ads)–all that means is you get a URL without the “wordpress.com” in it.

If you self-host, be prepared to have to learn not only coding, but also you need to know all about about plug-in installation, Jet Packs (whatever those are), software upgrades, bandwidth, backups and troubleshooting, analytics, and SEO, among many other things.   Features we take for granted like Likes and Comments aren’t automatically there; you have to install them yourself.  Have a problem? You’re on your own. There are no support forums to turn to as there are for WP.com users. You either have to try to figure things out on your own and fix any problems yourself, or you have to hire an outside party to do it for you. For someone who isn’t especially tech-savvy, the idea of running into a problem and having no idea what to do about it is very scary indeed. And I really don’t have much desire to have to learn all these things.  I’d rather be writing.

overwhelmed

3. The expense.
Being self-hosted isn’t cheap. If you advertise, while you can make more money from advertising (WordPress.com only allows Wordads) and can choose the ads you run, to me that isn’t worth it, because of the payout required from you just to be self hosted. You have to buy your domain name, then pay for someone (like GoDaddy.com) to host your blog (in leiu of WordPress, which hosts all WP.com sites). Expect to pay about $250 and $450 just for the first year.

WP.com is free and so are many of its themes. Even if you decide to upgrade, the expense is very small. I paid $18 for Custom Design, and it’s good for a whole year. Even without knowing how to use the included CSS feature, I still think it was worth it. The themes available on WordPress.com are all attractive and there are so many free ones available that no blogger should have any problems finding one they love and that suits their blog. If you want to make some money from your blog, and you qualify, Wordads will post the ads for you and keep track of your earnings. All you need to do is set up a Paypal account. While you certainly have the potential to make more from a self-hosted site, the amount of work involved in gaining enough traffic to earn anything more than pocket change is daunting for the average blogger, who just wants to write.

4. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
I have no problems with WordPress.com, so why would I want to take the risk of losing everything I’ve worked so hard on for almost two years, or messing everything up beyond repair, by “importing” it to WP.org? Unless I start getting massive amounts of traffic (unlikely) or run out of space and can’t post anything new (and even then I understand it’s possible to buy additional storage on WP.com), I have absolutely no reason to be self-hosted.

Why you might prefer self-hosting.

roman_fountain

With all that said, if you’re the sort of person who is challenged and excited by learning complicated new things, or if you want the sense of achievement and pride that someone like Opinionated Man experienced once he mastered the process of being self-hosted (at least the basics anyway, as he says you never stop learning and are forever having to tweak and make adjustments), then being self-hosted may be the right choice for you.   It may also be the right choice if you prefer to own your domain name (and hence, your blog) rather than just rent it from WordPress.   When you own your own home, you have the freedom to tear down walls (and run the risk of the whole house falling down and crushing you to death), paint the exterior shocking pink, build a sarcophagus in the bathroom, or install a Roman fountain in the living room.  If you rent, you are probably limited to neutral colored walls and you can’t install freaky things or tear anything down.

I’ll stick with my plain white walls, thank you.   I can still hang pretty pictures and decorate my abode the way I want, and I know my landlord will come fix anything that breaks.    I prefer my WordPress dumbed down so I can just write and leave the complicated tech stuff to others.

Further reading:
7 Reasons Why Novices Should Not Self-Host WordPress

Death, Prince, “the void,” and loss of control.

Update on my death phobia.

Monday Melody: Little Red Corvette (Prince)

monday_melody

In memory of Prince, I want to feature a song of his as this week’s Monday Melody. He was and still is one of my favorite ’80’s pop artists. This is one of my favorite Prince songs. It was difficult finding much recorded Prince music on Youtube, because he was opposed to his music being made available on Youtube.

I hope he is resting in peace.

Due to Prince’s objection to his music being reproduced on Youtube, his songs can’t be found there. The original video I posted was deleted, so I found another source. Unfortunately, I can’t embed this video so you will need to click on the link.

http://www.worldstarhiphop.com/videos/video.php?v=wshhINumd0GjaBingOOb

Rated PG-13: I never realized how raunchy this song is, but it’s still great!

Guest Post #12: The Journey Inspired (Coping with Depression with Severe Fatigue)

Amanda, from the blog Mandibelle16, is a frequent commenter on this blog. Her own blog features her poetry and creative writings as well as articles about mental illness and her walk with depression. Amanda has suffered from Depression with severe fatigue since 2009. The following describes her first episode of severe Depression (which also featured auditory hallucinations) and its aftermath, and her long journey to wellness. But I’ll let her About page speak for itself. She is a talented writer and poet.

Mandibelle16 – About the Author
https://mandibelle16.wordpress.com/about-the-author/

mandibelle16

Amanda is a writer, blogger, and student from Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. She began blogging four-years ago to improve her writing skills and share her thoughts on several topics including, her experiences with mental illness.

Over time, Amanda’s blog has developed into much more than it’s original use. She has taken Editing and Creative Writing courses from Simon Fraser University and the University of Alberta to improve her writing and editing skills, in addition to her Bachelor of Arts Degree in English Literature received in May 2007. Her next step educationally, is developing a portfolio for the University of British Columbia for a Master’s in Fine Arts in Creative Writing. Only twenty-five percent of students make it in this online program and Amanda is hoping to be one of these students in May 2017.

Amanda also has taken blogging, poetry, writing, commenting, and photography courses through WordPress. She looks to improve her writing anywhere she is able. Amanda enjoys poetry and has been learning various forms of poetry from the website Shadow Poetry. Each new type of poetry is fun and challenging. She writes poetry from WordPress The Daily Post, word prompts and her own experiences, as well as participating in National Poetry Writing Month each year in April.

Amanda has been expanding and fine tuning her writing skills in fiction. She has recently been writing short stories and submitting them to literary magazines (etc.) as well as writing Flash Fiction for four different photo and/or word prompts each week. Amanda also participates in other writing prompts or challenges called 3 Line Tales; she also writes a different themed list each week; and participates in a photography prompt called Echoes of My Neighbourhood.

Moreover, Amanda is writing up her first draft of her first novel called How Was Last Night For You. The novel has been in process for a few years but is close to completion of the first draft. After the first draft, she will be working on corrections offered by another already published writer (with great thanks!) to complete a second draft, before hiring an established editor. Whether the book will be self-published or not is yet to be determined.

In addition, Amanda enjoys the Edmonton sports scene. She is a huge Oiler’s fan (NHL) even though the team seems to only be picking-up great draft picks and not making it to the playoffs since 2006. She is also a huge CFL fan of the Edmonton Eskimos who won the Grey Cup this past November 2015. Amanda also enjoys walking and doing yoga. She loves dogs, reading, shopping, and spending time with her wonderful friends and family.

Amanda also has suffered from a Mood Disorder (Depression) since 2009. She has tried countless medications and few have worked for her due to sensitivities and allergies to many medications. Amanda was in hospital when the she initially fell ill in 2009 for three-weeks and this last Summer for three-weeks to do a major medication change. The latest medication change was successful and Amanda is feeling more energy then she has in years.

Amanda suffers from severe fatigue due to her depression as well as insomnia. Her new medication has helped her in both areas. If you would like to talk to her about her mental issues or your own, please feel free; she is always willing to provide what help she can in that area with her experience over the past eight-years.

THE JOURNEY INSPIRED: COPING WITH DEPRESSION WITH SEVERE FATIGUE
By Amanda, Mandibelle16

depressed_woman

My story begins when I was twenty-three-years old. I had my first ‘real’ job after university and I had recently advanced from the role of receptionist to construction administrative assistant at the commercial development company where I worked. I had been in the administrative role in construction three-months before I became ill. It was Christmas time and I felt worn out. I thought I simply needed to take a few days off work to rest. Although I had no idea what was happening to me, I began to experience the onset of a psychotic episode in December 2008.

My episode began with a person from work (for instance) talking to me as they usually would and then afterwards I would hear an echo after they finished speaking. This echo consisted of this person’s voice altering and them saying something to me that was extremely mean. I knew something was not right with what I was hearing, but I had no idea what was happening to me. My current psychiatrist and I still don’t know the reason I had a psychotic episode. I wasn’t unusually stressed, using drugs, and I wasn’t grieving or experiencing emotional loss.

Work became extremely difficult for me to attend. Often, I would end the day crying. I also had difficulties concentrating on my work because my thoughts were going around in my head at such a rate that I couldn’t organize my thoughts properly.

At home I was having difficulty sleeping and I had begun to lose weight because I refused to eat much. I told my parents what was happening to me. My Mom kept track of my symptoms as they occurred. She had some experience with mental illness from an extended family member.

My second last day of work, we had a fun office party at a delicious restaurant. Later, we went to a different restaurant at night for drinks. The day had been a better one for me but it ended in tears. I thought I overheard a guy in my work saying something mean about me and I left the second restaurant crying.

I came back to work one last day but I couldn’t control my emotions which were all over the place. A lady at work drove me home and since that time I have not been able to return to work. I’m still embarrassed how I broke down that day. I had no control over myself and despite the fact my episode was eight-years-ago now, I still feel ashamed for how I acted that last day.

scream

On December 24, 2008 my Dad and I sat waiting to get into a Doctor at a clinic. The Doctor prescribed me Ativan to aid me with sleep and for anxiety. My parents also took me to the University of Alberta free psychiatric clinic. I went there a few times and they diagnosed me with having a psychotic episode with auditory hallucinations.

Eventually, I ended up with help from my Dad and the U of A clinic, admitting myself to the hospital because I was hearing suicidal voices. I didn’t want to kill myself but I was hearing voices whom were telling me to end my life.

Before I went into hospital, I spent three-weeks at home hallucinating and the thoughts in my head kept going round. I would sit down on the couch and for hours become immersed in my thoughts. Then suddenly, it would be lunch time and my Mom would be home from work to check on me and ensure I would eat some lunch and take my medication.

I was under several delusions and one delusion was that food didn’t belong to me so I wouldn’t eat because I thought that was stealing. During my episode I lost about twenty pounds in a month. I also began to feel physical sensations at times moving up my arms.

Additionally, I stopped taking care of myself. It was difficult to force myself to take a bath or shower and often the moment I thought about it, I would forget I needed to accomplish that small task. I didn’t understand why I wasn’t taking care of my appearance and hygiene because I’ve always been finicky about taking care of myself.

I was in hospital three-weeks and when you are hearing voices from people, the hospital is a terrifying place to be. Hearing voices occurs in a person experiencing a psychotic episode because the synapsis in their brain misfires.

If you can recall any thought or idea in your head that you’ve ever learned, seen on TV, or read about, these ideas or thoughts become misdirected in your brain. A person’s worst thoughts come through as voices they hear coming from other people, the TV, Radio, or out of nowhere. For instance, when I was ill I would hear the announcers on a Basketball game on TV and it would sound like they were only talking about me and not the game.

The Doctor I had in hospital took me off the antipsychotic I had been on from the University of Alberta clinic, and slowly put me on a newer antipsychotic drug called Invega. Suddenly, my thoughts were clear and I wasn’t hearing any voices echoing a person talking to me. The thoughts in my brain stopped circling. I have never had a psychotic episode since, and I pray I never do.

When I returned home, I experienced a depressive episode. I lost my energy and began to have severe fatigue. Although, my fatigue levels have changed from awful to manageable, they are something I still deal with today. Fatigue is different than being sleepy. It has a physical and mental aspect and once you run out of energy a person can do nothing but lie down until they have more energy from resting. In this time, I developed a mood disorder that is likely depression.

fatigue
Severe fatigue is a common problem with severe depression.

I also lost some cognitive function which I would later regain. My handwriting for example, was childlike. It took me three-days to fill out my application to my insurance company for disability which was thankfully approved. Reading a simple young adult chapter book such as Twilight or Harry Potter, was extremely challenging at first. It was a couple of years before I could read more than simple adult books and longer still to work back up to being able to read for long periods and read difficult material such as textbooks and literary novels.

I met my present psychiatrist in April 2009 and she took me off of the Invega once we knew I was safely out of the psychotic episode. My psychiatrist switched me to a new antipsychotic because my old one left me with intense muscle pain in my shoulders and neck. For eight-years my Psychiatrist and a Psychiatric Nurse, helped me try tons of medications such as anti-psychotics, antidepressants, stimulants, and sleep medications. I participated in psychiatric testing so we could measure my improvement up to three-years after the episode occurred. We tried an array of medications but the majority had little effect.

Moreover, I had a consultation with a sleep psychiatrist whom I saw every six months. The sleep medications he gave me were a short-term solution to a sleep-disorder that had developed. I had insomnia and had both trouble falling asleep and staying asleep.

The results of trying all this medication was excess weight gain. At first, because I had lost weight in my psychotic episode, I needed to gain a few pounds but now I’m thirty-five pounds over a healthy body weight.

My severe fatigue doesn’t allow me to do cardiovascular activity intense enough to burn fat. I was extremely fit before my episode so being overweight is something that has always upset me because I don’t have much control over it. I eat healthy and in small portions but it doesn’t make much difference. Not to mention, when my mood disorder became worse, it was even harder to exercise.

I believe my health improving this last year, is due to letting myself be admitted into hospital for a medication overhaul. Sleeping at night had become nearly impossible. My Doctor had me go off my sleeping medications and on a new antipsychotic called Clozapine which makes a person extremely sleepy when they take it. Clozapine has to be monitored closely in patients because it can cause increased heart rate and increase white blood cell count.

I worked my way up slowly to the right dose of Clozapine for my body and it wasn’t easy. The second and third day after going on a new dose of Clozapine, I would feel awful. Then my Doctor would increase the dose and the cycle would repeat until we reached the correct dose for my body.

I spent a miserable weekend at home in a hot house in July on too large a dose of Clozapine. Surprisingly, that’s how we found my perfect dose. Now I only have to go for blood work to check my white blood cell count every so often. But Clozapine allowed me go off of a larger dose of antidepressants and sleeping pills. I can sleep amazingly well at night, even though I sleep to 11:00 am because of the medication.

By November 2015, my energy had increased and I was reading plenty again, writing more, and able to take my last Residential Design class. I could last at night for four or five hours meeting with friends. By January I noticed my concentration had substantially improved. Even though my physical stamina is low, I’m able to do yoga and go for a short walk at times which is a huge step up for my physical health from the last two or three years.

A wonderful aspect of Clozapine is that it is the only antipsychotic that actually heals your brain. I don’t know if I’ll ever be as carefree and able as I was at twenty-three-years-old, but each month I experience improvements to my health. Combined with a supplement program that is helping me to lose weight, I’m doing fantastic for a woman who suffered such a terrible psychotic episode and has lived with mental illness for eight-years.

My goals of late have been entering my writing into writing contests for different magazines to have my writing published. I write fiction, poetry, nonfiction and a bit of everything. I have been blogging for four-years as well. In the beginning, it was to improve my writing skills back to what they were when I finished my English BA.

Now I focus on improving my writing creatively. I’m writing a fictional novel on a curse, a sea witch, and two main characters who fall in love. I’m also participating in National Poetry Writing Month in April. You can check out my blog at: http://www.mandibelle16.wordpress.com.

I have gone back to my roots, to my love of literature and the written word. I adore writing and it makes me whole. It’s what I’m meant to do. I’m looking at applying for an online MFA at UBC in creative writing. I believe my family and friends, creativity, positivity, and faith in God, have lead me through difficult times in my life. They have allowed me to find light when everything seems dark.

Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

God answers prayers.

After posting my article about my fear of death yesterday and praying a lot about it, I came across a wonderful website called “Jesus Without Baggage.” I’ve never seen another site like it and I’ve been on it now since last night, just reading and learning. I can’t get enough.

I never thought I could reconcile my inability to believe in a judgmental, angry, legalistic God with a belief in Christ, but now I think I might be able to, all because of this website. It answers questions no one else has ever been able to answer before and addresses concerns I’ve had for a long time that “reading the Bible” only made worse (mostly because of the way it’s been misinterpreted and misrepresented by legalistic, narcissistic preachers and church leaders in order to exert “control”).

If you’re like me and want to have a relationship with Jesus but are completely turned off by fundamentalist Christianity, this is the site for you. I truly believe God answered my prayers by bringing me to this site so I want to share it with my readers too.

About Jesus Without Baggage

Even more interesting, the topic at mass today was “God is Love.”

I’ll be posting a new guest post in a little while.

Better late than never.

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Relaxing in the kava bar.

Today was fun.  You may remember, my daughter’s birthday was last Tuesday and we were supposed to meet, but she was sick and the day was a total bust.    Last weekend she was working, so we made her “birthday” today.   I had planned to drive up the Blue Ridge Parkway and take her for lunch at a restaurant I know up there, but the weather looked iffy, so I took her to the same little inexpensive eatery I went to with my son early this month (appropriately named The Lucky Otter–yes, this blog is named after it) and we sat outside and enjoyed watching the people walking along Haywood Road.

We were stuffed, so we decided to walk to a nearby kava bar.  My daughter goes there a lot; I have never been to one before, or had kava before.    For those of you who aren’t familiar with kava, it’s a very bad tasting herbal drink that has a relaxing effect (it doesn’t make you high though and it’s perfectly legal).   Their information sheet called it “the anti-coffee.”   Here is more information about it:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kava

The kava, which is gray-green and viscous-looking, was ladled out of a somewhat unsanitary looking punch bowl into a plastic cup.   It was served with another plastic cup of orange juice as a chaser, to cleanse the palate because it tastes nasty.   I was a little afraid to try it because it looked so gross and was supposed to taste terrible, but it actually wasn’t too bad.  It’s definitely strange tasting, but not really gross.   I can’t quite explain the taste but if dirt came as a liquid, that’s what it would come close to.   It leaves your mouth feeling slightly numb, but soon you feel relaxed.

kava2
Kava on the right; orange juice chaser on the left. 

The kava bar was interesting too.  Very rustic, lots of hippies and hipsters sat around on laptops, writing, or playing on their phones.   Rock music played at a low volume in the background.  Local art hung on the walls and sofas and recliners lined the room.   We sat for awhile, drinking our kavas and just watching the sights.    Afterwards, we just walked around and stopped by a small yard sale, where they were trying to give away stuff because they were closing up shop for the day.  I got a new purse and pullover sweater–for free!

kava
Inside the kava bar.

purse
I got this for nothing!

My daughter had to get to work, so we walked back to the car and called it a day.   I’m glad we got to spend some time together.

The ultimate dissociative experience.

thanatophobia2

Death isn’t something I like to think about, much less write about.  In fact, it’s my biggest fear (outside of the death of one of my children).  Oh, I know all the pat arguments and rationalizations that it’s not so bad–death is a part of life, death is nothing to be afraid of, if you’re a good Christian you will go to Heaven and there will be no fear, nothing at all will happen so there will be no fear, even the idea that death is beautiful.

I woke this morning, as I often do, thinking about how much I fear my own death.  I think this is a little obsessive-compulsiveness on my part, and probably something I should talk about more in therapy.   The mental health field has a name for the irrational or excessive fear of death: thanatophobia.    So far I’ve only talked to God about my phobia but I feel like He isn’t listening.     People in my age group (50’s) say they’re beginning to come to terms with the prospect of death, but so far, for me, that hasn’t happened.  I get more scared every year.

Maybe death terrifies me because it entails complete ego loss–it’s the ultimate dissociative experience, and as someone who has had massive panic attacks usually instigated by dissociative experiences (feeling out my body, feeling like things are dreamlike or unreal, etc.) it would be natural for me to be afraid of what it might feel like.   It’s like someone who had a bad drug trip and is mentally unstable to begin with being slipped some acid when they’re unaware of it–and never being able to return to reality.

I don’t like to write about death, because even thinking about it too long makes me extremely anxious.  But I need to write about it, and need to talk about it with others, and maybe find comfort in the fact that others have the same sense of trepidation and worry.  Maybe I’m not alone in my fear of death and dying.   So I’m going to plow on. Writing about it surely can’t hurt.

thanatophobia

I’ve been told by many Christians that, if I am strong in my faith, that there is nothing to fear, because I can be sure of my place in Heaven after I die.   But this makes things even worse for me, because I do have doubts in my faith and I am not at certain I am going to Heaven, or even that there is a Heaven.   No matter how much I pray for perfect faith, I can’t seem to make my mind rid itself of its many doubts.   There are just some things about Christianity I can’t make myself believe or at least not question.  Again, maybe it’s my obsessive-compulsiveness.   As someone who is afraid to trust anyone and is hypervigilant, it’s even hard for me to completely trust God and not worry about what will happen to me after I die. I look at others–even narc abuse survivors who should be as hypervigilant as I am–who seem to have attained perfect faith and I marvel at this. How do they do it?

Although it’s hard for me to believe that if I question Christianity or what the Bible says, that God will send me to burn in Hell for eternity even if I’m otherwise a good person (that seems like a terribly cruel, narcissistic God to me), how do I know for sure God isn’t like that?  Maybe God is really that cruel and narcissistic, but in that case, why would I want to even spend eternity in Heaven, trapped there with sanctimonious, self righteous, insufferable believers? (I’m not saying all believers are like that, but I’ve met more than a few who are).  In that case, maybe Heaven would be more like Hell.     But Hell…well, I definitely don’t want to go there.

But Christianity is only one way to look at the issue of death.  Let’s face it.   No matter how sure you are in your faith, whatever it is, none of us really knows what’s going to happen after we die.   What if the New Agers are right and what happens is you look back and see yourself lying on the hospital bed, pavement, or whatever, see your own broken, bleeding, or used-up body there, and then watch as they pull the sheet over your head?  What if you are swooshed at light-speed down a long tunnel toward “the light” and meet angels and see otherworldly landscapes and other inexplicable things?   Or what if you float around the earth as a disembodied spirit, revisiting your friends and relatives you left behind?   People who have reported NDE’s (near death experiences) have said that at some point they become aware they have died (that’s usually when they “come back”) and most say it’s very disorienting and even scary at first, because their bodies just aren’t there.   All of these things, no matter how pleasant others have said they are, strike terror in me, because they sound like dissociative experiences that you can never escape from.   I’ve struggled with episodes of dissociation my entire life, but no matter how terrifying they became, I always knew I’d “return” and the experience would probably only last a few minutes.   Does something happen after you die where you’re no longer afraid of such things, or do you just learn to deal with it?

death_quote

Maybe this is true, but I wish I could believe it.

What if the atheists and existentialists are right and nothing happens after you die?  What if you simply cease to exist?   While I find that prospect extremely depressing,  it actually causes me the least anxiety.   Eternal sleep and unconsciousness doesn’t seem so bad to me.  If you’re aware of nothing, well, there’s nothing to be afraid of or get depressed about, is there?  But I still don’t like the idea that this life is ultimately meaningless.   What is all the struggle for then?

Reincarnation doesn’t seem so bad, and actually does make some logical sense to my scientifically-leaning brain, but it flies in the face of being a Christian.   I don’t know of any Christians who acknowledge that reincarnation is a possibility after death.  But why couldn’t it be? As a Catholic, we believe in the concept of purgatory, a place of purification (not punishment) after death.  But no one can explain what purgatory might be like.  Maybe living additional lives is what purgatory actually means?   Again…we just don’t know.

'It's not that I'm afraid of dying, Doctor... It's just that I don't want to be there when it happens!'

‘It’s not that I’m afraid of dying, Doctor… It’s just that I don’t want to be there when it happens!’

Maybe we just go back to wherever we were before we were born, and have amnesia for this life. Or maybe it’s like eternal dreaming (that doesn’t sound too bad). Again, we don’t know.

Besides the inevitable experience of death, which seems bad enough, I’m terrified by the prospect of dying.   I’m in my 50’s, and figure I might (realistically) have about another two or three decades of life left.   To someone my age, that doesn’t seem so long.  Twenty years ago was 1996; thirty years ago was 1986.   That means that in that same amount of time, going forward, I will probably be leaving my body permanently, but before that, I may well suffer either unbelievable pain or a few moments of sheer terror.   Few people just die peacefully in their sleep or just suddenly keel over while out on the golf course (that’s the way a 90 year old great uncle of mine died).   Most suffer first, either for months (as in a long illness) or a few seconds (as in an accident).   I’m terrified of both.  I know there’s no way to get out of this life alive, so the inevitable is going to happen, and there’s not a whole lot of time left before it does. Even worse, each year time seems to hurtle forward twice as fast as the year before. What seemed like “a long time ago” to me twenty years ago now seems like the blink of an eye.

As someone who tends to overthink everything,  I probably think about death and dying way too much.  I know I should just stop and enjoy life while I still have it.   But the more I try not to think about it, the more I seem to.   It’s like that game where you try not to think about an elephant.  I pray about this all the time but it hasn’t helped very much.    I just keep feeling guilty because  no matter how hard I try, I can’t embrace my Christianity with perfect faith.   I have no guarantee I’m going to Heaven.   I keep questioning everything and then I worry about going to hell.  Or being eternally dissociated, which to me would be hell.  Or just worrying about the intolerable suffering that will precede my exit from this planet.    Maybe I need to talk to my therapist about this because it seems like it could be a form of undiagnosed OCD.

Further Reading:
My Fear of Death

Finding meaning in life after narc abuse and in poverty

Katie’s life trajectory has been so much like my own it’s downright spooky, but I think God brought this woman’s spiritual wisdom into my life as part of my journey in recovery. Her blog has become one of my favorites.

This article was so triggering and upsetting to me I almost stopped reading it (because it was like reading about myself) but something (God, maybe?) told me to keep reading anyway, and I’m glad I did because by the end (as with all Katie’s articles), my soul was lifted up.

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The power of music.

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