What Happens When We Live?

Me, sis, and bro not long after Christmas in 1986. There’s a lot I can say was wrong during this moment in life, but here’s something that was right.

For the last number of years, I’ve been super obsessed with death and the afterlife. My fear of death has subsided a little bit, but I’m still terrified as f/ck of death. It’s the thing rooted in my fear that has changed.

Before, I was just worried about kicking the bucket and being on God’s sh/t list and then having to roast for eternity in some version of Hell. But after losing my religion becoming more exposed to spirituality and curiously chasing Near-Death-Experiences to listen to, I have become fearful of the judgment of myself.

In my current understanding of the purpose of our existence, we come here and live, then leave to return to our spiritual homes. But before we make the full transition, we have life reviews in which we re-live our lives and experience them from the perspective of being all-knowing — to the extent of knowing how one has made others feel. These negative feelings are how people create a Hell for themselves.

I guess that’s what I’m worried about.

I know myself. And God knows that I have my moments of shame and guilt. If I’m being completely honest, I’m worried about the moments in life where I’ve made people feel like complete sh/t, and since my people-pleasing ass can’t seem to stomach other people being mad at me, I feel like I’m going to place myself into a personal sh/thole of a Hell.