Facing Death

Imagine being told you would be dying in a couple years.  The only analogy I can compare it to is somebody holding a gun to your head.  You can’t think about anything else.  You can’t function.  You are in a state of constant panic.  This was now the pinnacle of my devastation.  I began to withdraw from friends and family.  There was no way I could partake in any normal conversation when I had a gun to my head.  I couldn’t bear to hear about someone’s day to day happenings, what their kids did that morning, or the funny thing that happened at work.  All of it seemed trivial and inappropriate when I had a gun to my head.  All I could think about was dying.  I would only have 2 more Christmases.  I wouldn’t be alive for the next presidential election.  My warranty on our furniture would outlive me.  The list goes on.  It is extremely uncomfortable and terrifying facing your own mortality.  I couldn’t relate to anyone around me anymore.  I felt very far removed from everyone and everything.  The only person I could still relate to was Chris.  He was the only one going through the exact same grief and terrifying reality.  We spent many nights just grieving and trying to come to terms with this new reality.  I called my doctor and was prescribed antidepressants and anxiety meds.  I tried therapy.  I think I went through at least 3 right at the beginning.  I couldn’t do it.  Here they were telling me to practice my breathing and to take some deep breaths and that was supposed to alleviate this gun to my head?  All of their suggestions and advice seemed of little value in comparison to the chaos I was dealing with.