Fear of not living before dying

As I sit in front of the monitor with this blank Word document ready to be filled with my innermost thoughts, I reflect on the week I have had regarding my health and, well, it’s been better.

I’m mostly just tired, trying to find a balance in these new meds I’m taking. One of them, Seroquel, is supposed to be the big knockout for bed. I can tell you it’s effective for the first few hours of sleep. Then of course during a late-night bathroom run I’m up in a drowsy confused stupor trying to stand up straight to use the bathroom. The toilet becomes a dart board and I’m the bar patron who’s had a few too many to aim and hits a bystander or the jukebox. Thankfully I’m not holding any sharp objects or there’d be more problems. So I sit down, not giving a damn about gender roles at 3am in my own home. I just don’t want to end up messing up my bathroom like an untrained toddler. Then I’ll black out for an hour and drag myself back to bed.

So yeah, not safe at all. To be real, I don’t feel like myself. I know it’s not pandemic-related, but I feel slower than usual. I haven’t been able to think straight. I reply to emails and text messages only to realize that I’m speaking gibberish that has the receiver confused. Whether work-related or personal, it has some people concerned, so I’m going to the doctor to run some tests in a few days. I need some answers.

I know what a lot of it is when it comes to my health but I still need to get some professional advice. I’m not a “fitness” guy. I’m overweight with high blood pressure and, to top it off, sleep apnea. So it’s kind of life-or-death if I don’t get it together right now. I’m 31 with no kids and no ex-wives. Usually around this time I notice people in their second marriages with a lot of kids by the time they’re 30. I’m not knocking divorces and parents; I just know the world is different than it was for previous generations.

I’m just thinking about what can happen if I don’t even make it to 40. I have no legacy, nothing really left behind. At this point in my life, I’ll admit, I’m not interested in having children. It’s honestly the last thing on my mind. I’ll date a woman with children, I’m actually okay with that. I think about that like Gabriel Iglesias: I’ll have a pre-started family if that happens. It’s not really about planting my seed.

I just feel like I haven’t done enough yet. There’s still more world I want to see, people I want to see, experiences I wish to have. I feel like I’m just starting my life again. For years, especially throughout my twenties, it feels like I’ve been in a blur of confusion. Partied my ass off in my early 20s, threw in some toxic relationships and self-discovery. It’s been like a DMT hit; it feels like a lifetime in only 15 minutes. Or in my case just one decade.

I’ve realized time measures in different ways with age. For my mom in her 50s, time is consumed at a rapid pace until you hit a certain peak. For me it’s a drag strip with high horsepower, torque out the ass, and flames, exceeding speeds that would make weaker stomachs shred from the anxiety.

Unlike my 20s, these years feel like they matter. Have I thought about what I want to do for a career? Not really, but I feel closer to the idea that I would love to make my living independently. Am I looking at resources? In the internet age I’d be a fool not to. I feel like it’s my time to grow into something that I am proud of and stop trying to please others.

I’m actually more optimistic about that now than I was in my 20s. I admit though, there is still some fear. I feel like now I can bet on myself with less hesitation than before. I just need to get my health together before I crap out without even getting the chance to go all in. Until next time - Anthem