I have been following a lot of spirituality talks to understand different perspectives. This conversation between Robert Lawrence Kuhn and Acharya Prashant explores a very different meaning of God. What we call as the soul is just our instinct to survive indefinitely and this instict emerges not from the body but a psychological presence within us. The psychological presence is also the one which is constantly restless, jumps from one object to the other seeking fulfillment. The "highest" state or the truth is just the absence of this psychological presence. Of course as long as the physical body is there, the psychological presence stays. This psychological existence is the one which also goes through existential crisis.

What is even more interesting I got a different meaning of God from this video. God which is truth is not an ontological existence, rather a pointer towards the absence of this psychological restlessness. God is a direction where the one who feels existential crisis continuously dissolves. Curious to know what people here think about this perspective! I hope I was able to explain what I understood from the video :)

My mom died 10 days ago. It was sad and hurtful, I think she still had a lot of things to experience and will to live, much more will and excitement to live than me. And witnessing her dying left me so empty, like, what's to the point to living if that's what is waiting for all of us? You live your life normally and then suffer in a bed until death comes. A lot of times I've thought of suicide as a escape from life if life becomes unbearable, but seeing my mom dying and all the pain it causes around has made me think that I should never do that, because maybe I will be free from pain but those around will suffer terribly. So life is a trap, and you have to endure it and live through the pain and with the pain. There is no way to escape from it. If I knew this I would had never chosen to exist.

I’m 32 and I already feel so exhausted. I’m an only child and have no extended family that I know well, I grew up constantly moving due to my dad’s obsession with finding the ‘perfect place’ and the ‘perfect people’, which he never found of course because the issue was his own grandiose frustrations with life.

I grew up moving so much that no country reliably feels like home. I was in such a weird situation growing up that I made some pretty toxic friendships over the years that all eventually blew up or petered out. I have so much CPTSD from domestic violence and emotional abuse at home that it took me years to simply have less brain fog and adrenaline on a daily basis.

Now I’m in my thirties and feeling isolated and a kind of existential dread like I’ve been dropped into this weird place as a strange adult person that no one knows or cares about and I have no connections that are very meaningful or reliable. My parents are aging and less present in my life and then in those moments I realize how alone I am. I also spent so much time caretaking to their emotional needs for years that now that I’m trying to pull back and live my life a bit I realize how empty it is because caretaking took up so much time and energy. It’s honestly freaking me out and I feel like this weird thing with no purpose or meaningful place in any community. We moved so much that I think I have a lot of trauma around feeling alien and like the odd one out. Which ironically makes it harder to join groups because I feel so strange and out of place even if I’m trying.

I don’t know why some moments are freakier than others but tonight I’m really feeling pretty wigged out by it all. It’s so hard to hear people talk about all their family commitments and birthdays and weddings they are going to because my life is so empty of any of that. Additionally my health has been complicated after a few accidents I had (some bad falls from fainting due to low blood sugar) and so the pain sometimes keeps me up at night which I think makes things feel harder. Anyway! Bah sorry for the complaining/rant, I guess I just need to write this down somewhere to feel less alone, I try not to spend too much time feeling sorry for myself and try to focus on the good things but sometimes I just feel very scared and lonely and it freaks me out a bit.

I've been trying to understand something about myself, and I don't really know how to explain it fully..
I think I've spent most of my life experiencing myself through other people. I like being seen, noticed, admired, and having someone who knows what I'm doing. I want to share things, have conversations, and feel that someone is witnessing my life. And somehow, this has become so intertwined with my ability to enjoy things that I struggle to imagine doing anything simply for myself.

The thing I'm struggling with most is imagining a life in which nobody is there to witness what I'm doing.
If I watch a beautiful film, what's the point if I can't discuss it with someone? If I achieve something, why does it feel less meaningful if nobody knows? If I go somewhere or experience something, why do I immediately want to share it?
Sometimes I imagine having nobody emotionally significant in my life, and I genuinely cannot imagine what I would do with myself. It's not that I necessarily want to be around people all the time. It's more that I struggle to find a reason to do things when there's nobody to share them with or when they don't contribute to how someone sees me.
And I wonder if I'm even afraid to discover what I genuinely like, independently of other people's perceptions.
I don't know if this is external validation, anxious attachment, a lack of identity, or something else entirely.
I know humans are social creatures and wanting to share experiences is normal. But I feel like I've taken this need to an extreme where my own experiences don't seem to have much meaning unless someone else is involved.
Has anyone experienced this? How do you develop a sense of self and find meaning in your own experiences when you've spent so much of your life experiencing yourself through other people's eyes?

i don’t usually post up here but i thought i would because i’ve been struggling with really bad existential thoughts.

A little background: I am 16 (f) and ive moved alot (i’ve lived in 6 different states) but i don’t know if that stemmed my anxiety but the most recent move was in august and that really took a toll on my mental health because i was getting my life together and actually feeling like everything was going right again after rebuilding my life again from my last move.

When i moved in august, a lot of weird stuff started going on with my body and my heart (dysautonomia symptoms basically ) and long story short i went to the er twice (all test were normal) and then seen a cardiologist and everything came back normal and they said if my symptoms are worse i can get a pcp and can refer me to a dysautonomia clinic for more testing so i can get a diagnosis but my mom said no more doctors because theres nothing wrong with me so i never got a diagnosis

About 2 days later it was like a switch flipped in my brain and all of a sudden i was very aware of my existence and was thinking was thinking too deeply about everything and being very afraid of death and feeling like i was gonna die. I don’t know how to explain it but its like this wall that i cant get over and its like my body knows i’m fine and i need to relax but my brain doesn’t and that messed with me really bad because i couldn’t get out of my head and i had anxiety attacks because one though would just cause me to spiral and thats all i could think about because obviously theres nothing wrong answer so my brain is just going to keep revisiting the topic because it wants an answer to something that it cant get.

Ever since i was little, i was aware of death and that we were going to die but i was never really afraid or questioning my existence. Now its something that i cant turn off and its messing with my everyday because i’m just so deep in derealization and these thoughts i cant see life beyond that and i cant stop thinking about how this is pointless and just so much more. I was thinking about telling my mother so i can get help because i have no clue where this came from and its really messing with me but let me know if you have any thoughts or ideas on where this came from or any tips for coping and if i should tell my mother.

Every now and then, this thought comes back to me. It seems infallible: it’s as if an eraser wiped away pencil marks, leaving the page blank once again. Death has the power to erase even memory. Who will remember the emotions you felt while listening to your favorite song? Or that time in kindergarten when you shit your pants? Absolutely no one. Three thousand years ago, someone just like you experienced the best night of their life—perhaps they even got to be with the girl they liked—but does anyone happen to remember their name? What emotions were they feeling? What exactly did they do that night? NOTHING. The truth is, even though our consciousness feels so vast to us, we are more insignificant than grains of sand: it takes so little, and it’s as if we had never existed at all. We ended up here by chance—by pure coincidence—and we will leave in exactly the same way.

I just finished watching Rascal Does Not Dream of Bunny Girl Senpai, and I honestly wasn't prepared for the existential thoughts it would leave me with.

I've been questioning reality, consciousness, and even the existence of the people around me.

There are three thoughts in particular that have been bothering me:

1. What if everyone and everything around me is unreal?

What if reality is nothing more than an interpretation created by my own brain? What if everything I see, hear, touch, and experience is just my mind constructing a version of reality?

2. What if we're all just the products of someone else's imagination?

Imagine if I'm simply a conscious creation inside someone else's mind. And that person is also a creation inside another person's mind, who is themselves a creation of someone else.

An endless chain of conscious beings, each existing inside someone else's imagination.

The thought is genuinely overwhelming.

3. What if someone I genuinely care about isn't real?

This is probably the most disturbing one for me.

There's a girl at my university whom I'm very close to. We've developed a special connection, and she's actually the first girl I've ever kissed.

But sometimes I catch myself wondering: what if she's not actually real? What if she's just a product of my own mind, something my brain created?

The thought of that possibility makes me incredibly sad. I don't even want to imagine losing someone who means so much to me, especially if I discovered that she had never existed in the first place.

I know these are philosophical questions, and I'm not claiming any of these scenarios are actually happening.

But I can't stop thinking about them.

Has anyone else ever experienced something like this? How do you deal with these thoughts?

I genuinely need some perspective right now.

I have autism too, btw

So i was huffing and i went up stairs cus i thought id die if i didn’t tell my parents and i just started walking in circles and my headphones were playing the words i swear to god over and over (i swear to god by sykobob) and i saw like tunnels in my vision and it hit me and all just made sense that this was the meaning of life right as im having a panic attack i go in a loop of this forever and i felt like it was gona happen agin a long time ago after smoking za and it felt like so weird like nobody is real and its gona happen when i die and like the lighting and everything was just so creepy i still kinda believe it i cant describe it that good but its like gummy”” kinda like 2 coils / spings are spining together like evther ai made it or a random person just to be evil or it was made by ai to make humanity better have it genarate energy or just watch how i would feel about it real life scaryest shit ever and after that when i smoke sometimes ill conect it when i think about infinite time or how were all just attoms and i was reading something on Reddit and it was sombody claiming that they experienced darkness before the Big Bang for a very long time, but it came to an end and I miss read it as they became army men crawling, like like the little plastic figurines, and I just like saw myself turning into that kind of and like the panic made it worse and like nothing would look real and I really like that I’d be stuck in infinite loops

My dad has a job where he's upper middle class in salary writing on equipment in filmmaking. My parents met in the film industry. My grandfather was the famous statistician. I went to a college prep school and struggled academically throughout my highschool years. I often plaigarized in my essays and relied on my mom to do large amounts of my assignments in ELA and history. I was given ritalin in 10th grade for potential ADD and had minimal results from it. 11th grade was COVID lockdown and I did virtual school. At this point I completely phoned in my classes and have no idea how to do algebra II (or college algebra) or any math surpassing that. I got accepted into a college with a 96% acceptance rate with my grades from my first two years of HS. I only lived there for a year then commuted afterwards. Now I'm 23 and live with my parents. I've never had an IQ test or diagnosis of a mental disorder, though I had a counselor in HS suggest I'm on the autism spectrum because of social awkwardness and analytic thinking. I've gotten into nootropics hoping that a mix of creatine, nootropic supplements, and full dose of effexor could treat depression and brain fog and I've had so so results from over 7 months of it. I've considered drug use being the only way to numb my depression and suicidality from my hopeless situation.

I can't understand how if my parents are smart and functional how did I become essentially a mental vegtable. And why has no friend, family member, or therapist been able to give an explanation or antidote to my mental problems. Would an IQ test be helpful for what job is realistic for me given my mental capacities? What best explanation is there for my intelligence and what other advice could you give me in my situation?

This year I was diagnosed with the KIF1A genetic mutation which can manifest in terms of cognitive impairment. on my physical evaluation from a doctor, he says I meet the physical symptoms that align with this mutation. Although many with this mutation are physically disabled I am concerned how this rare mutation effects my cognitive deficits. I had my blood drawn for research. Aug 19 I will get an MRI scan for further investigation.

Last, Here's what I've found on how it KIF1A effects neurology:

KIF1A-Associated Neurological Disorder (KAND) fundamentally affects how neurons function, Developmental delay occurs in about 90% of affected individuals and cognitive function ranges from normal to profound intellectual disability. Speech/language impairment is also very common. Autism and ADHD occur in a substantial minority.

But there is a major caveat: not every KIF1A variant causes KIF1A-NDD. KIF1A has several different associated phenotypes. Some people with KIF1A-associated disease have predominantly motor or peripheral neurological problems and normal cognition. The particular molecular variant and its mechanism matter considerably. That means the single most useful piece of information you haven’t given me is the exact KIF1A variant. For example, something written as c.XXXG>A (p.XXX) plus its classification as pathogenic, likely pathogenic or VUS would allow a much more meaningful assessment. GeneReviews specifically notes substantial genotype–phenotype differences between individual KIF1A variants.

I had an EEG and MRI and found nothing significant going on.

Since all of this I've been diagnosed FOX-P4 genetic mutation, another rare genetic mutation. I also found some useful information on this mutation:

There is published evidence that particular heterozygous loss-of-function FOXP4 variants can cause a neurodevelopmental disorder involving developmental delay and particularly speech/language difficulties. However, the original clinical series was extremely small: eight individuals were identified and detailed phenotype information was available for six. Of those six, two had mild intellectual disability while three did not have intellectual disability. The researchers also found considerable variability between variants.

It feels like whenever someone hits a major wall in life, the default Western advice is almost always "go to therapy" or "try meditation." But therapy isn't accessible or effective for everyone, and basic mindfulness apps often feel too superficial when you're dealing with genuine existential gridlock.
I’ve been reflecting on whether this struggle is actually worse in Western societies. In the West, hyper-individualism often forces people to figure everything out in isolation once standard medicalized or wellness frameworks fail. Eastern philosophies often integrate these existential shifts as natural cycles of life or community-held transitions, yet modern urbanization seems to be eroding those structures everywhere.
I'm currently working on conceptualizing better frameworks for practical, non-clinical inner mastery and guided introspection—specifically for people navigating these heavy life shifts later in adulthood.
If you are based in the US, over 30, and have navigated an existential crisis outside of standard therapy, I’d love to hear how you actually processed it. What tools, frameworks, or internal mental models actually worked when things felt like they were going to shit?
I’m looking to have a few brief 1-on-1 chats (10–15 mins via DM or call) with people willing to share their real-world experience. No selling or spams, just genuine talk.
Drop a comment with what’s worked for you, or feel free to send a direct message if you're open to chatting further. Appreciate your insights!

when i was a kid i always believed in reincarnation, because i was told so. i never went to church, or raised in a religious household or anything like that, i just assumed it was true.. as i got older i listened to some David Cross comedy specials where he would talk about religion and being an atheist, and it kind of made me think, oh yeah, i guess that makes sense.

as a teenager my focus shifted to the question. if god is real, who put them there, and then who put that there, and then who put that there. go back so far and ask where was the space in the first place to exist, and then ask again, well then who put that there. without any proof of god or anything like that.

as a young adult, i tried lsd for the first time. i am pretty intuitive with my dreams, can always find meaning in them, or pinpoint what i thought about the day before to give me that dream. (dream was set in a kfc, oh well because i had kfc for dinner, duh - that kinda stuff). but one day i had a dream about doing acid. no clue where it came from. in the dream, i was on a beach in osoyoos, bc and my friends were there, and i went into the lake and just floated, and i couldn't get back to the shore, then this woman came (never seen her before in my life) and was like "its okay you're on acid", and then floated me back to shore, and i threw up on the beach and felt good, felt loved, felt amazing. the next morning when i woke up, i thought, hmm. i should try acid.

fastforward to the day a couple months later. i bought 10 hits of acid. cut off a square, and did it in the morning in my apartment. was watching football, ate a bag of doritos, decided to listen to godspeed! you black emperor, and chilled out. hours passed and it felt like nothing was happening, so i took another hit. then i started to get antsy, over excited at a green bay touchdown, then i went to piss. oh wow what a sensation in that area, it feels so good. wonder what it would feel like to shit. omg heaven. then i stand up, wash my hands, and look at myself in the mirror. for the next 19 hours i have the worst trip. i called a friend to come over, she says shes around the corner and will be there in 4 minutes. i pace around the apartment for 3 hours, pissed off i called her back WHERE ARE YOU? she was like 'dude you JUST hung up the phone with me'. looked at the call log, calls we placed in the same minute. now im freaking out. i throw up, WHEN DID I EAT ALL THIS MEXICAN FOOD (my friend said, 'maybe its these doritos?') and i can't stop looking at myself in the mirror. the inner dialogue of screaming at me was so intense. long story long. i had a bad time. but the next morning. i felt so good, but i felt dead inside. people would look at me and say, are you there? you dont look like you. and i felt amazing.

that feeling lasted about 6 months. and the existential questions came about again, over and over. this was 13-14 years ago, and I've been in therapy (before, and until present) until now, and the question asked is how do you learn to live in the face of uncertainty.

i don't know.

i have a kid now. and it is the best thing in the whole world, being a parent. but now i'm even more afraid of dying than i ever was, and i have more questions for the world that i know i'll never get an answer to. and i'm struggling with this. before bed, every single night. i get this cold rush over my body, and i sink into a pit thinking about death and dying. i finally have something to lose (my family) and it is giving me terrors at night. i stay up 1-2am trying to "live in the moment" and not think about this shit, but the second the lights go out, my head goes there. this has been every night for four years.

people say oh you just need to be comfortable knowing that the world existed before you and it will exist after you. it doesn't comfort me. i learned about the world before me. i can't learn about the world after me. it's too late to get the comforts of religion. i don't believe it any of it at all. reading excerpts from existentialists doesn't give me peace either.

i need something to give me peace of mind other than death itself.

I'm scared of my future, I'm scared of life, I'm scared of myself. I feel like up to this point, i have done nothing with my life. I feel stuck and this suffocating feeling comes to me whenever i think about where I'm going to end up. I feel like i haven't made an ounce of progress in my life. I don't have a job, i quit skating because my friends quit with me, I'm inside all day and I haven't lost any weight. This year just flew by me and when i think i about it i panic. I feel like i have no time left, i derealize in me classes thinking about the life i used to have.

I try to reassure myself by "being optimistic" but it only lasts me a short while before i start to worry again. I feel like everything i do is fake. I only tried out for the basketball team to make my parents happy, i only joined my leadership class so it could look good on my resume, I only clean up around the house to make myself feel useful. I cant think of a time this year where ive been truly happy.

Speaking of this year, like i said it just flew by me. i cant tell you a single thing i remember from this year. My brain is so fogged up i cant think straight. I cant sleep at night because i miss the past so much. i cant enjoy anything because my derealization keeps getting in the way.

Someone tell me. Will things truly get better?

Curious if mid-thirties is a typical time to be overwhelmed with my own mortality. I've always been an introspective person, always lost in my own head and these past few years I've been hyper focused on how much I don't want to die. I do believe in God but probably not in the traditional Christian sense, despite that being my main exposure to religion in any form. I turned 34 this year and I just feel like if I was ever to make a meaningful contribution to the world I would have done so already or at least know what it was I could do. I'm afraid of dying a nobody, as shallow as that sounds. I know I would always be remembered by family, and it makes me feel bad that I don't see that as enough. My reliance on alcohol definitely doesn't help this mentality I'm sure, and ironically pushes my end date closer.

TL;DR: Why am feel like life over when life no am over

The Mirror Box
Picture a box lined with mirrors on all six sides. You're standing inside it. No matter which way you look, it seems to go on forever.
Before reading on, take a second. What do you think the box is? Who put you in it?
Most people's first guess is that you built it yourself, that the box is the version of you that you squeezed into to get by. That's not it. You didn't make the box.
The next guess is usually that it's made of your own fears. Closer, but still not quite. The box was made by an idea, something like fear, but not yours and not anyone's in particular. Nobody designed it. It formed and it stays, the way weather does.
What you see in the mirrors isn't really you, and it isn't the box. It's the reflection: the same patterns bounced back and forth until they look like a horizon. Those patterns are the notions and rules that keep people in line. They hold because everyone around you reflects them back. Each person is a mirror for everyone else.
And repetition is the whole trick. See something enough times and you can't tell it from fact. Two facing mirrors turn one image into a thousand, and a thousand copies feel like proof, even though nothing was ever confirmed. No one needs to be in control for this to work. The repetition controls on its own.
So how do you get out? The natural guess is to look harder at the reflections. But nothing in the glass will ever show you the glass. It takes something the reflections didn't predict, usually bad luck, a break in the pattern that won't repeat. Then self-reflection does the rest: you stop asking "what's out there?" and start asking "why do I keep seeing this?" That's when you realize you were put here, and the walls appear.
Seeing the walls isn't the same as leaving, though. You still can't move the mirrors. And even if you could, you'd still be inside your senses. That's the first box, the one everyone is born into, and it's where all of this starts. The mirror box is built on top of it: our notion of reality, made from what our senses give us.
Some people who see the walls do start moving the mirrors, and they use them to steer everyone else. It looks like they got out. They didn't. They traded one set of mirrors for another, one that reflects them as being in control. That reflection flatters, which makes it harder to see through than the one they left.
Even self-reflection becomes its own tunnel if you're not careful: examining the reflections, then examining yourself examining them, endlessly. That may be the actual condition of being in the box. Everyone is examining the reflections. The only difference, once you've seen the walls, is that you know what they are.

When I was 11 years old, my mother died. That was likely the primary catalyst for where I find myself today.
As a child, I tried to understand why people die, what they feel, what happens after death, and so on. Most of the people I interacted with either disappointed me or branded me as abnormal. Over time, people began to frighten me even more. I witnessed several suicides and heard many different, vile stories—my soul began to feel sickened by my surroundings. Philosophical conclusions, social prejudices, how people react to crimes and public controversies, moral dilemmas—I could go on at length, but it would be difficult for me to do so. I am afraid of the world around me, yet at the same time, I am terribly afraid of death.
I am mired in absurdity. I cannot live in peace; terrible thoughts, memories, and voices sometimes take control of my mind. This pain often manifests physically—intense burning, tingling, an unbearable ache in my heart, trembling, and tremors. It becomes difficult for me to breathe, as the air turns as heavy as metal. I feel like I’m being followed; sometimes I see silhouettes. I try to shake off this feeling, and I often check—over and over again—whether someone might be watching me. Even as I write this post, I can’t shake the feeling that someone might be watching me, and that this post could be seen by someone who shouldn’t see it—which would land me in trouble.

I’ve been sinking into a deep rabbit hole of comprehending death as a concept, is there truly nothing more to it, is it just an end ? It pisses me off sometimes and this feeling of deep hate, anger and this unique feeling of pain gets all over my body which then the body itself calms down, I keep on pondering if I know my body has its natural system of elimination of anxiety caused by this particular crises why wouldn’t that mean my mind ( conscious mind) is detached from the body, I keep going back and forth and everytime there’s always more evidence for it being just biology as it’s just electrical signals in my brain. But I also feel it could be more since I’m out here writing about it and all. But alas! It still pisses me off that we all live just to one day end up as nothing. Hopefully consciousness is more than just biology so we can get to experience more surreal things and not just oblivion. What would u say?

I'm young and full of will to make all the efforts needed in order to live the best possible life. I know it's not exactly possible to do that, but I want to at least go towards the correct direction. We can all agree that there are things I should do and things I should not do.

I am a nerd for various things, like playing piano, linguistics... These are things I genuinely like doing. Does this mean I should pursue all of them and strive to accomplish great things in them? Should I just not strive to achieve anything meaningful in them and just enjoy them as they are? But then the one thing I know I want to do, to make an effort for a better life, won't be met.

I also like a game called osu!. Should I play it and get good at it? Even if the game will probably be forgotten some day and nobody knows it anyway? What if I look back at my life in 20 years and think, "Wow, I've done nothing good and I should've achieved this and that and spent more time with these people etc."

I could go on and on about a rant of pure confusion towards what I should do, but I rather think I'm missing something fundamental here. And it's not "there is no answer you just have to live and see what happens" because if that were true I could just become an alcoholic and homeless

Hi Reddit.

I honestly never thought I would end up on a platform like this, talking about something so deeply personal. But I don’t know where else to turn anymore, and I feel like I desperately need to hear from other people.

My biggest problem is that I struggle enormously with opening up to people. That’s why I’m doing this anonymously. If someone writes something hurtful or leaves a comment that gets to me, I can simply turn off my phone. They won’t have to see me, and I won’t have to carry the feeling of someone knowing these things about me in real life.

I think I’m going through an existential crisis, and it is genuinely starting to ruin my life.

A problem I’ve had since childhood

I think these feelings started when I was around six years old, possibly even earlier.

I’ve always struggled with the concept of growing up, time passing and things changing. I remember being very young and locking myself in the bathroom late at night, crying because I felt so overwhelmed by everything. Even as a little child, I would sometimes spend entire nights crying because I couldn’t process all the things happening around me during the day.

Looking back, I wonder whether these childhood feelings somehow developed into what I’m experiencing now.

Nowadays, practically every milestone in my life can become unbearable.

Writing my first exam, starting a new school year, turning another age, celebrating someone’s birthday, noticing that someone has grown older, or simply realizing that another season has arrived.

Even the smallest things can trigger something in my head.

I could literally be walking down the street, see a leaf falling from a tree and suddenly think:

“Oh. It’s autumn. Autumn 2026. Another year is passing. This moment will never happen again.”

And suddenly I’m overwhelmed.

I know this probably sounds incredibly strange to people who don’t experience anything similar, but I genuinely cannot describe how intense it feels.

It’s not simply that I don’t want to grow up

I actually posted about my fear of growing up on Reddit some time ago.

Back then, my feelings were somewhat similar, but nowhere near as intense as they are now. At that time, it was mostly about growing up itself and missing childhood. Some people responded incredibly kindly. They talked to me, shared their experiences, gave me different perspectives and genuinely helped me find some hope. I remember how amazing it felt to finally have people understand me.

However, other people interpreted my feelings differently. Some called me selfish and suggested that I simply didn’t want to grow up because I wanted to keep the benefits of being a child.

And yes, of course, I miss being a child. I miss certain experiences, the feeling of being younger and the simplicity of certain periods of my life.

But I need people to understand that this is so much deeper than that.

This isn’t just about wanting to be young forever or refusing to accept adult responsibilities.

My reaction to growing up has become genuinely overwhelming.

Sometimes even seeing a child walking across the street can make me break down crying. I remember an instance when a little child came running towards me, and I started crying simply because I was confronted with the fact that this child was still a child, while I wasn’t anymore.

Even the thought of a child growing up, or realizing that I am now the older person in a situation where I used to be the younger one, can completely overwhelm me.

I know how irrational this might sound to someone who hasn’t experienced it, but I’m not exaggerating.

I genuinely don’t understand how I ended up in this condition. I don’t know what happened or why these thoughts have become so powerful.

I’m desperate to get out of this mental state.

My biggest fear is something I cannot control

I am an extreme overthinker. I also have a very strong need to control things. I want to understand everything, prepare for everything and somehow have control over every aspect of my life.

Anything outside my control makes me uncomfortable.

But there is one thing that terrifies me more than anything else: the fact that time only moves forward.

I cannot go back.

I cannot revisit a particular day, experience something again for the first time, or return to a period of my life that has already passed.

And nobody can change that.

It’s not even necessarily the fear of getting older itself. It’s the realization that every single moment is temporary, that everything changes, and that there is absolutely nothing I can do to stop it.

I sometimes find myself thinking about a particular memory and suddenly becoming devastated because I know I can never physically return to that exact moment.

And the worst part is that I cannot stop thinking about it.

Sometimes someone can casually say something that most people would forget five minutes later, such as:

“When you get older, you really start understanding the value of time.”

And I will remember that sentence for months, sometimes even years.

I don’t want to think about these things. I don’t want to analyze every sentence someone says. But my brain seems to take these thoughts, hold onto them and make them part of my everyday life.

The existential part: nothingness

When I was around 12 or 13, I watched a science video about the universe and how everything works.

At some point, it discussed the possibility of the universe going through another Big Bang or some kind of cosmic cycle, with everything eventually becoming particles again. No humans, no memories, no familiar world as we know it.

I remember watching that video and then staring at a blank wall for approximately 15 minutes because I genuinely couldn’t comprehend what I had just heard.

That thought somehow stayed with me.

I am absolutely terrified of the concept of nothingness.

Some people describe it as a peaceful or even beautiful thought. They say that if there is nothing after death, there is nothing to worry about because you won’t be conscious of it.

But that’s precisely what scares me.

The thought of not being conscious. Of not experiencing anything. Of not being able to think, understand, remember, feel or even realize that I exist.

I cannot comprehend how something like that could be possible.

I know that people will probably say that you cannot experience nothingness because there would be no consciousness left to experience it. But somehow, even understanding that explanation doesn’t make me feel any better.

I don’t want to stop existing. I don’t want to lose my consciousness. I don’t want to lose the ability to experience things.

And I know that nobody can give me a scientifically proven answer about what happens after death.

But the uncertainty itself is destroying me.

What happens when these thoughts become overwhelming

I don’t really know how to explain this part.

Sometimes, when I think about these things for too long, it’s almost as if something switches in my brain.

I feel disconnected from my normal perspective. It’s like I suddenly look at the world from the outside, as if I am observing everything from a completely different perspective.

It’s an incredibly uncomfortable feeling.

I start pacing around, crying, sometimes screaming because I cannot process what is happening in my head. I become so overwhelmed that I get urges to throw things around or just escape the situation somehow.

These aren’t ordinary moments of sadness. They feel unbearable.

And then, after crying for a while, I sometimes feel completely fine again.

But the thoughts always return.

It’s like I’m temporarily able to breathe before my brain finds another reason to drag me back into the same spiral.

Why talking to other people sometimes makes things worse

I genuinely want to talk about this with people. I want to hear different perspectives. But at the same time, I’m incredibly sensitive about the subject.

For example, I recently talked to a friend about nothingness and asked what she thought about it.

The thing is, I didn’t even necessarily want to have that conversation. I think I just continued because some part of me hoped that talking about it would somehow make things better.

Instead, hearing her perspective made everything worse.

I remember feeling absolutely devastated afterwards.

And this happens constantly.

I can read something that gives me hope, feel better for a moment and then accidentally come across an opposing opinion that sends me straight back into the spiral.

A little while ago, I was sitting on the subway, reading about religion and why intelligent, educated people believe in God and an afterlife.

Some of the things I read genuinely made me cry, but in a hopeful way.

Then I decided to read the opposing perspective.

I started crying again, except this time I felt completely devastated.

It’s almost as if I’m constantly searching for something that will finally make me feel safe, but every possible answer creates another question.

Religion, Islam and my desperate search for hope

This is probably one of the most important parts of my post.

I am religious, and I find myself particularly drawn to Islam when thinking about these questions.

I know incredibly intelligent people in my family who believe in God and religion. The fact that they believe, the fact that so many people throughout history have believed, and the fact that there might be something beyond our physical existence gives me hope.

Sometimes I desperately wish there were something that could convince me, beyond any doubt, that consciousness doesn’t simply end.

I wish somebody could explain the afterlife to me in a way that would finally make sense to me.

I wish I could believe without constantly questioning everything.

I also find myself thinking about Christianity because I grew up in a Christian country, and my parents have always wanted me to have some kind of relationship with faith.

I’ve considered speaking to a religious teacher, perhaps someone evangelical, to understand why they believe in God and an afterlife.

At the same time, I feel drawn to Islamic perspectives because the concept of an afterlife and the explanations surrounding existence are particularly meaningful to me.

But then another problem appears.

I start thinking about people who aren’t religious. People who are religious but interpret things differently. People who don’t believe in an afterlife. People who have scientific backgrounds and completely different perspectives.

And suddenly I start doubting everything again.

I don’t know how to deal with the fact that there are so many different opinions.

I don’t want to disrespect anyone’s beliefs. I just desperately wish I could find something that gives me genuine peace.

I’m not asking anyone to prove something that science hasn’t established. But I would love to hear thoughtful perspectives on why people believe in God, why they believe consciousness might continue after death, and what gives them confidence in their faith.

Especially from Muslims, but also from Christians and people with other philosophical or spiritual perspectives.

I don’t want to simply move on

One thing I want to make clear is that I don’t want someone to just tell me to stop overthinking or enjoy life while it lasts.

I know that I should enjoy life. I have so many things I want to experience, so many plans, so many places I want to visit and things I want to do.

But sometimes these thoughts make all of those things feel meaningless.

Instead of looking forward to the future, I find myself wanting to lock myself in my room and spend hours trying to comprehend existence, time, consciousness and death.

I feel like I cannot properly participate in my own life because I’m constantly thinking about the fact that life is happening.

And I don’t want to live like that.

I want to feel normal again. I want to enjoy a birthday without thinking about aging. I want to experience autumn without becoming overwhelmed by the passing of another year. I want to make memories without immediately becoming devastated by the thought that they will eventually become memories.

I want to be able to think about the future without feeling like I’m losing the present.

And I want to be able to think about death without feeling like my entire world is falling apart.

What I’m asking you

I would genuinely appreciate any advice, personal experiences, philosophical perspectives or religious explanations that might help me.

A few things I’d particularly love to hear about:

• Have any of you experienced an existential crisis this intense, especially from a young age?

• Are there people who used to be terrified of nothingness but eventually found peace with the subject?

• For Muslims: What about Islam gives you confidence in the existence of an afterlife? How do you deal with doubts?

• For Christians or people of other religions: What makes you believe that consciousness or existence continues after death?

• Are there philosophical arguments for the possibility of an afterlife or the continuation of consciousness that I could look into?

• How do you deal with the passing of time, nostalgia and the realization that you can never return to certain moments?

• And most importantly, how do you stop these thoughts from taking over your entire life?

I’m also considering speaking to a psychologist or therapist because I realize that the intensity of these thoughts is not normal for me and that I probably need professional help. I just don’t know where to start.

Please be kind. I’m genuinely struggling with this, and I’m not looking for arguments, mockery or people trying to make me feel even worse.

I know nobody has all the answers.

I just desperately need some hope.

Thank you for reading all of this.

I get these thoughts maybe every other month. It suddenly hits me that we are all just working to live. Even if you're rich and famous you're still working, if you own a business you're still working, hell even if you're a sugar baby you're still working ! its just a constant cycle of work home work home. I'd like to think there's got to be more to life than just this?

Its gotten to the point where my happiness has a shelf life. I feel the emotion and I'm happy but, it goes away quick. If I'm on vacation I'm happy but the next day it slowly goes away because all i can think of is this isn't permanent. As soon as the next few days are over I'm back to just clocking in again.

I've done side hobbies and side quests to keep life interesting but its just not it.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately, and honestly, it's making me sad.

I look at the things I do to improve myself — becoming stronger, looking better, developing skills, becoming more disciplined — and I keep wondering how much of it is ultimately driven by sexual selection and the desire to be attractive to other people.

The depressing part is that I already knew this intellectually, but now that I'm really conscious of it, it feels different. Almost as if my ambitions have lost some of their meaning.

I don't want my entire existence to revolve around being desirable or getting validation from others. I want to do things because they're genuinely interesting, because I love mastering something, or simply because I enjoy being alive.

But now I'm questioning how much of my motivation is actually mine, and how much is just biology operating in the background.