Anxiety, Fear, Death, and Hope: A Plea for Peace of Mind

I don't know why you wouldn't want to share that with your therapist! It sounds like a perfectly normal thing to worry about - as you describe it. I think your therapist would be able to help you see it from a different perspective though. That would be the benefit of sharing it.

In really simple terms, we're all going to die. Only in your case, you're going to be all stressed and completely exhausted for lack of sleep as well when the time comes.

SO... why not worry about the eternity stuff when the time comes? There will be others there (where ever there is) that have already spent an eternity there. They'll likely have some pointers or suggestions as to how to pass the time. If you think Monopoly takes a long time here on earth - can you imagine how long they play it for in Heaven?

Maybe you don't spend forever there afterall. Becky is a believer in reincarnation. Perhaps you'll come back as someone or something else. In fact, this might be your second or third round here already! Who knows.

When you're laying there at night, think outside the box. It isn't necessarily all doom and gloom.

 

This bit's what strikes me, since it is very similar to my own experiences.

I was raised conservative Christian (Lutheran Church Missouri Synod), and I really bought into it in high school, actually becoming more conservative in college. But, I can remember even as a kid when I'd learn about Heaven and having the same questions you did, thinking Heaven would be a really boring place. Almost five years ago now, my life fell apart in a very rapid time, badly enough that I nearly killed myself, and during that time I began to have some doubts about my faith. And yes, the question of Heaven was one of them. What was there to do in Heaven? What was I allowed to do in Heaven? Why am I supposed to WANT to be there in the first place?

I was taught that Heaven was paradise, where you could be in eternal service to god. I didn't like the sound of that. Serving of my own accord is one thing, but being compelled to serve? That's slavery. What else was there to do in Heaven? I couldn't figure that out, but I could figure out what I wasn't allowed to do. Heaven's supposed to be paradise, but there's no sin in Heaven, right? Hello, paradox. I enjoy playing video games, even violent, "sinful" games like Grand Theft Auto from time to time. Well, if I'm in paradise, I should be able to do whatever I want, right? But, I wouldn't be allowed to play GTA in Heaven because there's no sin in Heaven.

Ok, so if I couldn't do what I wanted in Heaven, then was it truly paradise? For that matter, was it even plausible? My answer was no. So then I thought about that last bit: Supposing Heaven was real and I had a good shot at ending up there, WHY would I want to be there? I couldn't come up with an answer. Eternal slavery didn't appeal to me. Faux paradise didn't appeal to me. And it ultimately seemed like a waste of a perfectly good eternity.

Consider, in "The Hobbit," Bilbo goes on an unimaginable journey and learns an incredible amount about the world outside of his little house in the Shire. He meets great people, makes good friends, has great adventures, and even has a couple of souvenirs. What did he do after that? He let it all go to waste. He sat around. He adventured and worked and saw wonders beyond his imagination, and he wasted the next 50 years or whatever it was sitting on his ass, never again trying to push his boundaries or grow as a person. That's how I view the idea of Heaven, as the end of the unimaginable journey known as life where all of the knowledge I've gained and all of the adventures I've had and all of the friends I've made simply go to waste.

A little over a year ago, I was commuting to work by bicycle, as I often do (I'm an avid cyclist) when I was hit by a large SUV that ran a red light going 40 miles per hour. My leg was shattered and I spent the next three months on crutches, then another three in physical therapy just so I could walk (mostly) normally. In the brief instant between realizing I was going to get hit and actually getting hit, I seriously thought I was done for, and then in the hospital I had some quality thinking time to consider that further. You know what I came up with?

This life's too damn short to worry about the next one. We get, at best 100ish years here, and in my case, mine were nearly SUV-limited to 25. That's not a lot of time. That's not a lot of time to go out and adventure, to make and enjoy good friends, to gain knowledge and figure out how the Universe works, so I don't see much reason to waste a bunch of it worrying about the next iteration of my existence. Death will be yet another grand adventure, and the next life, should there be another, will be a whole new set of opportunities to learn, to adventure, to make and enjoy friends. And, if there's not another life or existence awaiting me after this one, I would hate to let the one I KNOW I have go to waste.

Because really, what's the point of life if you ain't gonna live it?

 

I see death as a transition. It is simply moving from one existence to another. Kind of like moving to the neighbors house across the street. If you look at it like that, its not nearly as scary. It might help you to read some books on death and dying. My mom introduced me to some back when I was in high school and they really had an impact on the way I viewed death. Go to your library and see what you can find. We only fear things that we don't know so you eliminate that fear by becoming familiar with it.

I hope that makes sense.

 

Transition, adventure... practically the same thing, really.

Think of it like a big road trip, with some interesting people in the car, an iPod full of music, and in an old station wagon that has a couple hundred thousand miles on it. You don't know how the trip will turn out, but you know it's gonna be fun and probably leave you with some interesting stories!