The Fear of Disappearing

It's a common thought that, as people grow older, they change in some way. Sometimes it's a big change; sometimes it's a small one. For me, the changes going on, not in my life - but my mind - have been big.

So big, that they come with a whole new set insecurities, and have also changed how I might behave outwardly.

Without cause, or reason, I find myself thinking about death - mainly mine, but sometimes the death of others close to me. I think about it an awful lot. Too much.

Before I alarm anybody, I am not, and have considered, nor will I ever be considering taking my own life, or the life of any other person. I fear death, and this new, unfounded fear has gradually worsened over a number of weeks.

Why do I fear my own mortality? I don't know. I'm 30 and mostly healthy, bar a not so healthy smear result three years ago that I've since had surgery for, and received the all clear on, and some weird problem with my knees where they lock if I kneel and can't get back up without an ambulance full of laughing gas. I'm well enough to assume I have a vast number of years left yet. But this fear sometimes consumes me, and it is impacting upon some aspects of my life.

You see, it's not death that i find the most scary prospect. The thing that scares me more is the fear of disappearing. I don't want to leave one day and never come back because I have been involved in an accident. Of course I could be murdered, or go in any number of ways, but a road accident sticks most in my mind.

A couple of weeks ago, I didn't want to go to the city. No reason why that I can think of. On the way there with my husband and daughter, I was mentally obsessing. What if we were all in a crash and killed? My son was at school, so he wasn't with us. What if we had been killed, and nobody was there to meet him from the bus?

I'm not thinking the logistics of what would happen to him. If anything were to happen to me, I would want my Dad to come get my children to take them back to live with my mum. I say that here, right now - I must get that in a will. My children stay with my husband, or they go to my mum.

What I mean when I worry about my son is; what would happen to him mentally, and emotionally, if that happened? He doesn't talk. How could he comprehend that one moment I am here, and the next... Gone? How would he cope? I don't want to suddenly disappear from my children's lives. That's why I fear my mortality. I prefer to keep us all together, or be comfortable at home knowing they are safe at school. I prefer for us all to go out as a unit, because then I am with them.

I never used to be this way. In England I went out frequently, while my brother looked after the children. I didn't worry so much. Perhaps it's because so much is unfamiliar to me here that I just don't trust that I am safe from harm unless I am in my home. There is no support network here for to me to subconsciously fall upon, which probably heightened my anxiety when it comes to the children.

Today I am shattered. I had a busy weekend, with two christmas parties to attend. The first was with my husband and his colleagues, and by ten pm I just wanted to get home. The taxi ride was spent thinking the taxi felt like it was going much too fast, and I was glad when I reached the house. Then, last night was my first night out without my husband, with fellow ChicagoNow bloggers.

Earlier in the week, I was back and forth, and the urge to cancel overwhelmed me. I didn't want to go out, because I was nervous and this fear that never leaves made me second guess my decision. I did go, and I think the nervousness of meeting so many new people took over the worry, but the fear never went completely away.

As it was, I had a great time, and met so many lovely people. My fellow blogger, Jessica of Little Merry Sunshine was kind enough to give me a ride. She told me I should have a Chicago bucket list, but I think this fear is something I should get a control of before I embark on an adventure like that. The weekend was a blast, but I am worn out.

Now, all I want to do is hide away, engrossed in my cross stitch, and I fully intend to. First, I have to finish preparing for Christmas and pack for our trip home to England next week. It's going to be a busy week. All I can hope is I don't fret too much about our upcoming flight.

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