When I was a kid my mom was sick for almost a whole year and gone a lot in the hospital. My dad was also gone often to be with her. I never got my worries addressed. No one talked to me about what was going on. She recovered and lived another 20 years. My dad died when he was 54, not from a hereditary disease just a fluke. I am 54. This has bothered me for a decade. I feel like my clock is counting down. I've been preparing to die this whole last year. The pandemic made it worse. Now every ache or pain is the final nail. There have been many final nails. I can not get my mind to stop terrorizing me.

I'm not afraid of dying, in fact I almost welcome it. I am afraid of being sick and abandoning my dogs. Of literally becoming my parents. I deserved better when my mom was sick and my dogs deserve better now. I don't want them to hear any other voice or see any other face when they die. Just mine. That is a crushing regret that even now, before any of us die, is on the verge of killing me. I know there are no certainties and life does what it wants. That's part of the deal of living. Neither fair or unfair, it just is. I just don't know that I have the strength to keep going anymore.

I'm going to see a doctor because I was ready to end my life because my anxiety said there's no hope. I want confirmation from a clearer head before I take that step. I still will if necessary so my dogs and people don't have to suffer the uncertainty the way I have. And that might be the stupidest thing I've ever said. And that's the problem I face every waking moment.

Thank you for responding and asking a good question.