Afraid Of Dying? Scientists Pinpoint Who Is Terrified Of Death And Who Isnt

I nearly died once. It is an experience that is known to me. Besides that though, I really think you simply cease to be. The only thing ot fear, imo, is the possibly painful ways to meet your end.

I hope to go in my sleep.

the methodology is my concern as well. here's hoping for non-trauma exits for us all. I have always liked the quote of my tagline supposedly by Mark Twain.

Like dependent children. Once my child is independent I am not too concern about dying. The other concern is curiosity since dying is like not getting to see the end of a book or a movie.

Less for me as mine are grown but will be effected anyway. If they were small it would be a fear if looming.

Just had surgery where I was thinking one thought and drifted off, unknowingly. I've decided that is ideally how I want to transition. No struggle, no awareness, no fear.

and are likelier to risk death. I've always agreed with this to a degree. I may have confirmation bias on this but; as an atheist I am terrified of death, however conversely as a (I like to think myself an) intelligent person I am not afraid of dying, nor the actions that we lead me to that state.

It may seem somewhat contradictory, and it really is, but the futility of life that I perceive affords me a degree of recklessness.

To speak to the study; I think that the curve drop off towards staunch atheists could be somewhat skewed. People I've met who identify themselves as a "staunch atheist" often attempt to convey a smugness toward the area, believing chinks in their armor can be exploited in debate by theists (as most, including I, have experienced in the past). Most "staunch atheists" are not outspoken about it. I can assure you however, no matter how we try to present ourselves socially, we will lose many a night's sleep mulling our continuous existential crisis regarding death.

When I was in my mid thirties, I was out to dinner with some friends and all of a sudden a wave of nausea washed over me. I began to sweat and feel dizzy, but excused myself from the table and headed to the ladies. I never made it. I passed out on the floor in the middle of the dining room. The wait staff said I was out for approximately 40 or 50 seconds. Not even a minute.

In that minute I experienced another life, living in another place with people I did to know, but had affection for. I was happy. I distinctly remember... to this day, that I did not want to come back.

When I came to, I was no longer nauseous, and felt perfectly fine. I went to the ladies and splashed water on my face.
Went back to the table and calmed everyone down, telling them I felt okay...better than okay, and shared my vision.

Then we had drinks.

It was a profound experience and since that day, though not religious, I have never feared death, and have shared my experience with dying friends who have found some comfort in my experience.

It was not your traditional NDE, since it was not connected with a medical emergency, but I guess it was of a piece.

Perhaps you slipped out not another of your "lives". Did you ever try to come to a deeper understanding about that experience?

as a matter of fact, it was a pivotal spiritual experience that led to my. becoming a Buddhist.
Namaste.
"There are more things in heaven and earth than are of dreamed in your philosophy, Horatio."

I would prefer to go quickly and as pain free as possible, for my family's sake as much as mine.

I have been primary caregiver for my dear neighbor who recently passed at 89, and my older brother at 79. Both were under hospice care and passed in relative comfort, just about all any of us can hope for.

The last 3 years have been so hard on the kids. I hope they can be spared going through that again.

is as the lack of control over the manner of my death. I fear dying violently or painfully. Peacefully drifting away doesn't scare me at all.

I am not afraid of what comes next. I am just afraid of dying...

RIP POP

There will either be an afterlife or there won't. There is no reason to worry about it.

one fears death.
As one ages into the eighth and ninth decade I have noticed in myself and the many other I've been near at those ages, that the fear of death becomes much less, and even becomes welcome in some instances.

Living takes energy, and as one loses strength and stamina, the fight for life becomes not worth the struggle.
I've heard elders- in their 90s and past- wonder why they are still around.
One has to have a reason for living - a sort of mission to fulfill, and when that has gone, the will to resist death, and thus the fear of death, recedes.

All of this is apart from belief in a God or an afterlife.

about 9 months ago, I was in a situation where I was certain that I would die, my husband would die, or the third party who was trying to get us both killed would die. My friends here who know me in real life/on facebook know the event I"m talking about.

The entire event (based on 911 transcripts) took less than 7 minutes. In my mind, and in my husband's mind, it was over 30 minutes. There was one moment in time, so clear, so clear that i can remember the way the air smelled, the way the light of the upturned lamps reflected on the walls, how the broken bathroom mirror was like a shattered disco ball, projecting and reflecting light to parts of the room that are usually dark.

I remember the struggle, looking down and realizing that if this person got control of the situation, my husband I would both be dead in a matter of seconds. It was so clear. My thought was "no no no, this is not supposed to happen this way" and every atom, every molecule in my body was set to prevent THAT from happening. I fought for my life and for my husband's life, and it's only when I was overpowered, and in the process of almost being killed, that my husband was able to take control of the situation and allow us both to walk away with very minor injuries.

I was never afraid of death. Never afraid of the end. I certainly wasn't ready to capitulate and let this asshole kill me or (worse) my husband. My fear was *dying*.

As an RN, I've seen death. It is rarely a passive event, in the middle of the night, where one is found in the morning with a peaceful and satisfied smirk, as they know something we never will, until we finally do.

No, my friends. Death is ugly. It's protracted. It's painful. It's full of tears and begging and gasps and blood and gurgles and broken ribs and we're doing everything we can and I thin we did everything we could.

I'm not afraid of death. I'm afraid of dying. Of the physical act of dying. Thanks to conservative Christians and "pro-life" religious groups, the option of physician-assisted suicide, death with dignity, is not a reality for most Americans.

No, we'll lie in that bed, slowly suffocating in our own air, drowning in our own fluids, waiting for the epinepherine and levophed and dopamine to stop coursing through our veins and allow our hearts to finally stop beating.

A year ago this Friday my mother died. She was 2 months past 60 -- far too young to have spent the last 3 years of her life slowly dying and doing whatever futile means she could to keep it at bay for one more day. But that was not to be. I got the call on Saturday night that she had coded twice, and another time before I got in Sunday afternoon. She was vented, she was medicated, but she was dead. It was my call to remove life support or hope that she came out of her anoxic brain injury, multiple flat-lines as the same person she was before. I knew that would never happen, and I knew that was literally the last thing on this earth she would ever want for herself.

In the end, it was the care and compassion of her Dr's, Nurses, and Respiratory Therapists who, despite being in one of the largest hospitals in Holy City Charleston, SC, allowed her pass quickly and with as little pain and anxiety as possible through the use of pharmaceutical intervention. I am thankful for their care. The hours she lingered before death were endless, and that is the reality of death.

No, I don't fear death. I am sad at the prospect that that is all there is, there is no afterlife and I'll never see the people I love again. I'll live on through the exchange of one energy to another, particles etc etc. But that's it.

It's the death process that I find utterly terrifying. I am only happy that my husband is an RN as well, and should the medical establishment be even further restricted in the future from allowing a peaceful passage from this earth, I know that HE knows how to...como se dice....get things done in a dignified, not suspicious way.

death with dignity. The very thought that "pro-lifers" have the audacity to claim ownership of my life and what I can do with it raises my blood pressure to dangerous levels. Christian Sharia is what it is. I remember when this book was really controversial: https://www.amazon.com/Final-Exit-Practicalities-Self-Deliverance-Assisted/dp/0385336535

Is this all there is? I wish it wasn't so. I wish I could make myself believe the fairy tales. It would be so grand, so comforting. I draw solace from the fact that this life is such an incredible privilege. A privilege granted not by a supreme being but by virtue of intelligent cognizance. Intelligence to look into the night sky and understand what is seen, unlike all other animals in their comparatively unaware life/death cycles. Out time is so brief and so linear that we can never actually speak to our ancestors, giving us severe familial amnesia. SIGH


As an aside, and regarding looking into the night sky, I would recommend the "Google Sky" app for everyone. See bright star/planet, just point your phone/tablet and see what it is! It's a lot like magic.