This is the paradox I find myself in. I can rationalise things in terms of the possibility that I could get hit by a bus tomorrow and that might be that. But I likely wouldn't see it coming I suppose. So I don't expect to go through the process of ceasing to breathe so therefore I don't fear it.
The last couple of days I've felt really not well physically. I posted about it and it could be a number of things, one of which, had occurred to me and others agreed it could be caused by my meds. I had this none too pleasant feeling of impeding doom last night. I took my meds and they made me feel probably 10 times worse but for a change slightly sedated me.
I must have started to fall into an uneasy sleep and, as happens with my meds, my breathing seems to get shallow. My heart had been beating like a jackhammer, probably over 150bpm and since I've had evidence of a heart attack on my last few ECGs this concerned me as it only happens when my meds kick in. I suddenly snapped back awake when I could see a "psychedelic" vision of the last thing I looked at. It "felt" like I was dying. I gasped for air and it felt quite scary.
This is kinda what worries me, as that psychedelic image kept playing through of the image of a TV and books and various nerdy things. Sort of in high contrast with rainbow fringing and "digital noise". I kept thinking "what if that's how it feels?" and I had this melancholy feeling of never reading those books again and how all this "brickabrack" would connote "me" to the people I care about.
That's I suppose, how SI affects me. I feel incredibly sad about casting a shadow once I'm no longer around and how this will affect the people I care about. They will probably wish I could be around to make those things "live" again.
But on my side of things it just feels like things will always be on a downward trend. Even when I have a few weeks feeling a bit more like my old self, I end up feeling like I just hit a brick wall at 120mph. It crushes all the hope and life out of me. I've tried so hard but I'm not a stunt man. There's only so many times you can "slam into a wall" before you can't take it any more.
So it's weird that when I feel like "it's time" or I get the feeling I could "slip away" by chance. All the "rose tintedness" of life and people and things seems to spring from nowhere.
I fucking hate my brain :-(