Fear of Death – Page 17 – The Amateur's Guide To Death & Dying

By Carlos Maza

Josh Mercer wears a T-shirt in honor of two of his friends who were killed at the Pulse nightclub in Orlando.

I spent most of Sunday thinking about what I would text my mom if I was hiding in a nightclub bathroom and believed a gunman was about to kill me. I pictured the bathrooms of my favorite clubs. I imagined where I would hide. I imagined how I would try to barricade the door. I pictured what my body would look like on the floor.

I wish I could say I left my apartment that day and fearlessly celebrated Pride month. I wish I could say I attended a rally or a vigil, or even just got drunk at a bar with my queer brothers and sisters. I wish I could say I became a living testament to LGBT courage in the face of violence and hatred.

But I didn’t. I lay on my couch and imagined being shot and killed in a bathroom.

I understand why so many people have chosen to respond to the massacre in Orlando with proud public displays of solidarity with and support for the LGBT community. The history of LGBT people in the United States is a story of resilience, even in the face of incredible pain and loss. We respond to a world that asks us to disappear by chanting, “We’re here! We’re queer! Get used to it!” We celebrate Pride partly as an act of defiance and perseverance.

After the shooting in Orlando, it’s tempting to push ahead to the part where the LGBT community pulls itself up by its bootstraps and recommits to fighting bigotry and making the world a more welcoming place. I am tempted by that, too.

At the same time, LGBT people aren’t superheroes. What happened in Orlando opened wounds in people thousands of miles away from the gunman. LGBT people are grappling with the fact that there is no such thing as a “safe space,” that we created the idea of a “safe space” to stay sane, but it is an illusion.

It’s hard to overstate the mental and emotional damage that realization has on queer people. For me, it has been a profoundly isolating experience. Fear makes you want to retreat from the world, makes you want to stop talking and pull away from anything that might put you at risk.

I walked to work Monday morning, searching for copycat executioners in the eyes of strangers on the street. I packed gym clothes and caught myself wondering if my tank top was too flamboyant. I watched straight people discussing queer bodies on television and wondered how they could talk about Orlando if they didn’t understand what it’s like to walk into a gay club and think, “Finally, I’m safe — this is home.”

I don’t know what to do with any of that. Even now, I’m writing because I desperately want to feel like I have some control over what happens to me. To do something, however small, to make myself feel like I have a grip on things. It isn’t working.

If you have queer people you care about in your life, talk to them. Always, but especially now. Maybe they seem fine. Maybe they live somewhere that feels very far away, in distance and culture, from Orlando. Maybe it feels like an uncomfortable subject to bring up.

You should still talk to them.

Many LGBT people have spent years keeping problems — especially problems related to being LGBT — to ourselves. We have become masters of seeming fine, of convincing ourselves that we are fine, when we are not fine. Because we badly want to be fine.

There is a good chance your charming, confident, smiling gay friend feels deeply scared and unwelcome in the world.

Ask them how they’re doing. Tell them you love them. Tell them your love doesn’t come with caveats. Tell them it’s okay to cry. Tell them they don’t deserve to be scared. Tell them that it’s okay to be scared anyway. Tell them it’s okay to be afraid of dying. Tell them that they matter to you — and that you want them here, alive, now.

None of that will stop an LGBT person from being afraid of dying. Nor will it stop them from mourning the dead. The only way to deal with pain and trauma is to sit with it until it’s done with you.

Complete Article HERE!

By Lisa Iverach, Rachel Menzies, and Ross Menzies

Some people focus their fear of death on smaller and more manageable threats.

Awareness of our mortality is part of being human. As author and existential philosopher Irvin Yalom said, we are “forever shadowed by the knowledge that we will grow, blossom and, inevitably, diminish and die”.

There is growing research exploring the overwhelming anxiety that the inevitability of death, and our uncertainty about when it will occur, has the power to create. A social psychological theory, called terror management theory (TMT), is one way to understand how this anxiety influences our behaviour and sense of self.

Coping mechanisms

According to this theory, we manage our fear of death by creating a sense of permanence and meaning in life. We focus on personal achievements and accomplishments of loved ones; we take endless photos to create enduring memories; and we may attend church and believe in an afterlife.

These behaviours bolster our self-esteem and can help us feel empowered against death. For some, however, periods of stress or threats to their health, or that of loved ones, may result in ineffective and pathological coping mechanisms.

These people might focus their real fear of death on smaller and more manageable threats, such as spiders or germs. Such phobias may appear safer and more controllable than the ultimate fear of death.

We might take endless photographs to create a sense of permanence.

This makes sense because when we look closely at the symptoms of several anxiety-related disorders, death themes feature prominently.

When children experience separation anxiety disorder, it is often connected to excessive fear of losing major attachment figures – such as parents or other family members – to harm or tragedy from car accidents, disasters or significant illness.

Compulsive checkers repeatedly check power points, stoves and locks in an attempt to prevent harm or death. Compulsive hand washers often fear contracting chronic and life-threatening diseases.

People with panic disorder frequently visit the doctor because they’re afraid of dying from a heart attack. Meanwhile, those with somatic symptom disorders, including those formerly identified as hypochondriacs, frequently request medical tests and body scans to identify serious illness.

Finally, specific phobias are characterised by excessive fears of heights, spiders, snakes and blood – all of which are associated with death. Phobic responses to seeing a spider, for instance, typically involve jumping, screaming and shaking. Some researchers argue these extreme responses could actually represent rational reactions to more significant threats, such as seeing a person with a weapon.

Priming death

More evidence for the TMT hypothesis comes from studies showing that death anxiety is capable of increasing anxious and phobic responding.

These studies use a popular “mortality salience induction” technique to prime death anxiety in people with other anxiety disorders. The technique involvesparticipants writing down the emotions that the thought of their own death arouses, as well as detailing what they think will happen as they die and once they are dead.

Spider phobics primed like this had increased reactions to spiders, such as avoiding looking at spider-related images, when compared to spider phobics not primed with death. And compulsive hand washers spent more time washing their hands and used more paper towels when primed with death.

Likewise, those with social phobias took longer to join social interactions. After they had been reminded of death, they also viewed happy and angry faces as more socially threatening – as these faces indicate judgement – than neutral, seemingly innocuous faces.

Is fear of death normal?

Given that we are all going to die at some point, death anxiety is a normal part of the human experience. For many of us, thinking about death can evoke fears of separation, loss, pain, suffering and anxiety over leaving those we love behind.

According to terror management theory, this fear has the power to motivate a life well lived. It stimulates us to cherish those we love, create enduring memories, pursue our hopes and dreams and achieve our potential.

Death anxiety is a normal part of human experience.

Death anxiety becomes abnormal when it forms the basis of pathological thoughts and behaviours that interfere with normal living. Many obsessive-compulsive hand washers and checkers spend significant amounts of time each day in ritualistic behaviours designed to reduce the threat of dirt, germs, fire, home invasion or threats to themselves and loved ones.

Similarly, those with phobias may go to extreme lengths to avoid what they fear and react with extreme distress when confronted with it. When these thoughts and behaviours lead to impaired functioning, anxiety is no longer considered “normal”.

Treatments, such as cognitive behaviour therapy, for a range of disorders may need to incorporate new strategies that directly address death anxiety. Without such innovation, the spectre of death may tragically haunt the anxious across their lifespan, until it is too late.

Complete Article HERE!