And so are your pants!

I have, one could say, a few phobias in my life. Most I can deal with when they come up. Some I run from the car/room/area screaming (i.e bees). Some I just ignore and put into the “deal with later” folder on my desk (which for the record is a very large folder – which I’ll deal with later in another blog).

There’s one phobia that hits me hard. It hits me in the middle of my chest and then squeezes so hard that I think my eyeballs are going to pop out. There’s never, ever, an indication that this phobia is going to rear its ugly head – it just does. Once it has a grasp on me, and my attention, I know it’s going to be awhile before I can think about anything else. It’s a phobia that is real. It will happen. When it will happen is yet to be determined. No one knows. But I hear it’s like taxes – guaranteed.

Death.

I have a phobia of death. Actually, I suppose it borderlines (Madonna singing just popped into my head) on anxiety. It’s not so much about how I’ll be dying, but it’s about being dead. I don’t want to be dead. Ever. I want to live forever. Life is much more fun. Even with all the up’s and downs of life, I’d gladly take life over death any day. But who wouldn’t?

I was reading this blog about time management. The writer talks about how she starts by asking a class to picture the timeline of their life. She then puts up her left hand and indicates that’s the beginning of their life. Followed by her right hand indicating the end of their lives. She then asks them to mentally place and X on the time line that represents where they are in their life. She goes on to say that most people put the X somewhere in the middle. My X wasn’t in the middle.

My X was to the left….way to the left. In my mind, I’m living forever, so why would I put my X to the middle. Being 39.88888 doesn’t mean my life is almost over, or half over. Does it? But here’s the clincher. Here’s the dirty little secret they don’t tell you upon birth when you put your chips all in…we have no control of the right hand. Did that hit you like it hit me? Insert the anxiety about death now.

See, part of my charming personality is I’m a control freak. I don’t mean to be, but my mom is and so I am. It’s the way I was raised. Controlled. Anyhow, something like death, I can’t control. That bothers me to the core. Okay, some would argue that I can control it…and I get your argument, but the time of death I can’t control. (again, I can hear the argument here, but I’m hoping you’re picking up what I’m putting down).

I’ve been near death only once in my life, that I know of. I suppose there have been several times a car has come careening out of control ready to take me out a few times, but that’s not what I’m talking about here. I’ve only had to fight one thing that nearly brought me to the end, and I didn’t even realize I was on the edge of the cliff with the ground beneath me loosening and ready to give way at any moment. I remember with vivid clarity how alive I felt once I fully comprehended what had just transpired the previous 5 days. I pledged then to live. To plan. To laugh. To one day love and hopefully be loved. And above all, never EVER look back with regret. I started to dream, hope, and wonder about my future. I felt more motivated than ever before to just live and to just experience.

Now, 7 years later, I’ve lost that wonder. I’ve lost that motivation. It’s the missing sock. You know it’s somewhere in or near the dryer, but you just can’t find it. So you put the other single sock in the drawer and hope that one day the mate is found. I’ve lost the sight and have now realized what I never considered 7 years ago…that I couldn’t live as if my right hand extended to forever. Because what ultimately happened was I postponed things. I had created a list of things to do, and I put off living and experiencing for a sunnier day, for when I had more money, or when I had a bunch of people to experience with. I missed out.

This blog isn’t meant to be a downer. Quite the opposite. It’s meant to be an eye opener. It’s a shout out to everyone I know to remind them that there is an end and while you can’t control that, you can control how you spend your days. Spend them and spend them well. Manage your behavior, not your time.