Fear of dying. Acceptance of my body (gray hair and receding hairline). Phone without a password. Intense argument between my mother and the voice in her head.

October 29, 2024.

Last night, before going to sleep, I realized the reason for my fear of suddenly dying, for example, from a heart attack or stroke: the suffering it would bring to my family, especially my mother. I already know how she would feel. She would blame herself somehow and feel responsible for my death.

The act of dying itself doesn’t scare me. If that’s my fate, then I’ll go. But how can I free myself from the fear of leaving behind people who would suffer because of my death?

It’s almost midnight. I still can’t fall asleep. Dwelling on one’s own death is not easy.

I lie here and decide to remove the password from my smartphone so that my family and friends can access it after I’m gone. This way, they can even access my nudes and sell them. 😜

• For security reasons, I had to disable Apple Pay / Wallet (it doesn’t work without a passcode). I’ll just use the physical card to pay from now on.
• I also disabled my password app, so no one can access my single password. 😄
• I deleted the banking app because I only used it to set up standing orders. If any new changes arise, I will reinstall the app. Otherwise, I don't need to constantly check my bank account.
• All messages, browsing history, and other sensitive data deleted.

There, done. If I lose the phone now, it wouldn’t be such a big deal.

zzZ…

It’s 7:14 a.m. Even though I couldn’t really fall asleep until around 2:00 a.m., I’ve now found a way to overcome my fear of dying: I’ll simply say goodbye to my mother now, so that later, she won’t feel, as she did with Grandma Lina’s passing, that she didn’t get to say goodbye. I’ll just act as if today is my last day.

While massaging my scalp in the morning and running my hands through my hair, I asked myself: Why? Why is it so important to me that there is no bald spot visible on the back of my head?

It’s important to me because I want to stay forever young, because I fear aging. Aging is the process of gradually dying, and I try to escape it by trying different methods to fight the bald spot.

At that moment, I realize that this battle is actually unnecessary because I can’t win the fight against aging.

I should not only show tolerance towards other people but also towards the changes and peculiarities of my own body. I decide to finally stop fighting it and simply accept my baldness.

That’s why I deleted all the photos that were supposed to document the progression of the bald spot on the back of my head every day. Now, anyone who picks up my passwordless smartphone will find nothing more in the photo album than a few getting-to-know-you question cards from a board game.

I also looked at the scattered gray hairs on my head and in my beard. That, too, is a sign of aging. I will also stop constantly searching for solutions to combat gray hair. Instead, starting today, I will tolerate and accept them. Because when I am lying on my deathbed, will I really think about how successfully I fought against baldness or gray hair? No.

It’s different with dandruff, for example. This is not a symptom of aging, but a sign of an unresolved physical or psychological problem. I will accept it as well, but I will continue to look for solutions to address the underlying issue.

What I notice is that not only have my hair grown quite long by now (it almost covers my ears), but also that my scalp does not itch at all, even though I no longer wash my hair. The scalp feels very pleasant.

Two years ago, this would have been unimaginable: As soon as I hadn’t washed my head for a few days, it would start to itch immediately, and the only solution to get rid of the itching was to wash my head with shampoo. After banishing shampoo from my life, this process has somewhat reversed. Washing with shampoo rather dried out the scalp and triggered itching. Even just washing the scalp with water caused similar itching and dryness. Now, after eliminating water, my scalp feels very pleasant – no itching and no redness, even when I eat a lot of sugar. Maybe massaging instead of washing will also solve the dandruff problem over time? Who knows.

At breakfast, I brought up the topic of death with my mother. When I said, “I will die. I wanted to say goodbye to you now,” something happened that exceeded almost all my expectations. She looked at me speechless, ran into the kitchen, and came back with a better knife in her hand. For a brief moment, I thought she would stab me, but instead, she held it to her chest and said, “I’m going to kill myself.”

I became afraid that she might actually do it and followed her into the kitchen. There, she was about to pour herself alcohol into a wine glass, her hands trembling.

“Calm down first,” I said, as if it were that easy.

This only made her angrier. With her bare hand, she crushed the wine glass over the sink, and her hand began to bleed. Words were probably the dumbest thing I could say in this situation. So, I went back to the living room, sat cross-legged, and tried to quickly calm myself with a few deep breaths.

“I’m going to kill myself,” I hear from the kitchen while I continue to calmly look out the window at the gray sky.

What followed would have hurt me deeply two years ago. Back then, I would probably have run away in tears or collapsed.

You fucking son.

I hate you.

I’m ashamed of my son.

I hate you.

I hate that you walk around barefoot.

Like a homeless person, you sit there all day, do nothing, and just philosophize.

Go work like a normal person. You can’t even provide for your girlfriend or your family.

No wonder you’re not accepted by others.

No one needs you.

I hate you. I hate you so much. I hate all of you.

You don’t accept my boyfriend. You ruined my relationship.

You ruined my day, my breakfast, my life.

Her eyes drift thoughtfully to a corner again and again. It’s as if she’s listening to her inner voice and following it or even talking to it.

I listened to this in silence for almost an hour, without saying anything. When I look at my mother in the here and now, I notice how trapped she is in her own thought world, in the past. It’s almost absurd to observe her like a wild animal, hissing at me, making noises, and showing her teeth. Sometimes I look at her, and sometimes I let my gaze drift calmly around, experiencing the moment.

After her outburst, she lay on the floor, cried, and started humming. Then she spoke to her mother, asking for forgiveness from God and her mother for not always being there for her. Maybe she understands now that her greatest wound is the fear of death.

Even though I listened to all of this calmly, I drifted a bit out of the here and now over time. It felt in that moment as if I had put down my shield, and her emotional poison arrows left such light abrasions. These wounds later manifested as slight stomach pain.

Today it became clearer than ever to me: I cannot defeat anger with anger, and war cannot be ended with war. Fleeing from emotional poison arrows is also not a solution. What truly protects me is inner peace and conscious being in the here and now. I may not yet be completely out of "the Matrix," but the awakening is palpable within me. The voice in my head tries everything to prevent it, but I will no longer be held back.

I got a glass of water and almost swallowed a shard of glass that was from the broken wine glass in the cup. I spat out the shard and looked at it.

Could the dream from October 27 predict this very situation for me? Did I see the future in that dream? I am astonished...

Later, my mother came to me and sat down next to me. Her inner voice continued to speak with her, and I listened. Suddenly, her accusations and insults transformed into hints of understanding.

“I understand that you want to live minimalistic and walk barefoot. But you have to adapt a little; otherwise, the world won’t accept you,” she said, adding, “Work will do you good.”

In that moment, I only heard how her inner voice was trying to push me back into "the Matrix," to fall asleep again.

“I am not here to be accepted,” I replied calmly. “I am here to change the world.”

After this "argument of my mother with her inner voice," I drove to Hildesheim and said goodbye to her, briefly touching her shoulder. Meanwhile, she was texting Julien. It was only when I left the apartment and reached the parking lot that I turned around and saw her standing at the window. She had placed her hand on the glass to say goodbye to me.

Poor soul, my mother — so deeply trapped in the painful life that plays out only in her mind.

In the café, I read the book by Eckhart Tolle while drinking peppermint tea.

I regularly turned my gaze away from the book and looked at the tea. I noticed the scent of peppermint and the peppermint leaves floating in the tea, and I observed how the light shimmered and reflected off the glass. It was so beautiful that I nearly had to cry at this lovely sight. I had never perceived a glass of peppermint tea so intensely and clearly before. I felt a deep, complete satisfaction within me — an indescribable feeling.

On the way home, it started to drizzle. I looked at the colorful leaves on the trees and felt a smile on my face, the kind of smile that comes when you realize that all the suffering and problems of the past were just a dream.

Julia visited me later, and we talked for a long time. That's private. ✍️

Shortly after, my mother called and apologized to me again. I told her that she didn’t need to apologize since her behavior hadn’t hurt me at all. On the contrary, I could understand her reaction. She invited me out for pizza. I agreed.

However, I won’t discuss death with her again. If I should find myself dying one day, I will simply accept that my mother will grieve, one way or another. It is not my responsibility to ensure she feels good while I am dying. Everyone deals with loss differently, and her mourning will be part of her own journey. With that in mind, until (hopefully) tomorrow! 🙏

I am grateful today:

• That I am awakening more and more.
• That I had a great conversation with Julia.
• That I was able to see the true beauty of a glass of peppermint tea.
• That my mother quickly made peace with me.

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