As far as I know, I don’t have any phobia – until the day my Lolo (grandfather) died. I was with him when he kicked the bucket. It was a moment I will never forget for the rest of my life.

Emotions came pouring in like lava coming out of a volcano; hot, slow and destructive.

I ignored people consoling me. I don’t want to see anyone, I don’t want to talk to anyone, I don’t want to hear anyone, I don’t want to have to do something with anyone. I wanted to be alone, and think. It is the best course of action for an introvert like me; a time for myself to process everything that’s happening.

I’m in a room, alone and crying for a time I don’t know how long have been. I have never shed that many tears in my life. When I was about to control my crying, it hit me. Random thoughts rushed into my head – about mortality.

What was it like being dead? All the memories while you are living, where would they be? Is our consciousness really gone when we die? Is there an afterlife?

Everyone will eventually die. Every person that I know will die. I. WILL. DIE.

Those thoughts gave me goosebumps and sent shiver through my whole body. My mouth felt dry, and sweat started to build up on my palms. I felt a feeling I have never felt before. I was worried, nervous and uneasy. I started panicking, I wanted to run, hug someone but I can’t. I was frozen. Followed by uncontrollable crying, again.

I thought it will be a onetime feeling for that day only, because of the trauma (grandpa died), but as time passes it is becoming more prevalent to me. The thought of being dead has become more and more frequent accompanied by the strange feeling. We are all aware that natural life will end; it’s a fact. It is constantly at the back of our minds but most people do not think about it –unfortunately, not me. That thought is like a gun always aimed at my head. I know the trigger will be pressed and I will be shot, but I don’t know when. Sometimes it will hit me before sleeping, after waking up, while watching a movie, in the middle of a freaking working day. I can never tell when, but every time a bullet pierce my brain, I always cry, like f-cking ALWAYS.

It was then that I realized – I have a morbid fear of being dead (to clear things, I am not afraid of dead people, I am afraid of my own mortality, of me ceasing to exists), or Thanatophobia – as what folks with high IQ would call it. You may be wondering as to, why someone would have a fear of being dead if they have not experienced dying? I wish I could answer that question, like I wish I could stop the thought. But no, in fact I have just experienced it again thus me writing this piece. I need to vent this feeling out.

Death is inevitable, it is a part of an ugly cycle we call life. It is something that we have no control of, but – Fear is only experienced when the mind allows it. I should be focusing on controlling it. It’s funny that I am suffering more from imagination than reality but that’s the lemon that life has given me. I need to accept it to keep my sanity intact.