fear of death usually stems from the fear of not having experienced life to its fullest potentional.
Strongly disagree. In my case, fearing death has absolutely nothing to do with some foolish, pollyannish notion of "not having experienced life to the fullest" and all to do with confronting, and hopefully someday overcoming, the real, tangible biological mechanisms that ruthlessly drive each and every one of us. Pain & fear keeps
all of us going. End of story. Tragically, it keeps some of us going even when the time has long past that one would have any wish at all left to keep "living", assuming they had any desire to do so in the fist place that is. Those such as myself are simply trapped in coffins constructed of our own flesh, with tubes shoved down our respective throats to keep us alive for no other reason than that's what this infernal thing is designed to do. Just as if we were a walking life support patient in the style of a Silent Hill-ish monstrosity inspired from the likes of Francis Bacon or H.R. Giger. And live, you say? Live for what?
In what? This wasteland, this void, this boundless abyss. How could anyone with a straight face say there's anything here at all that could be of any value to anyone, in even the smallest degree, if not for the collective delusions we harbor that we all know deceive us? For me, the answer to that question, has, and will always be, nothing. There's nothing here. Anyway, I don't mean to go on & on about it, but, frankly, I've just always found the overall notion that if someone is unable to bring themselves to commit suicide out of the considerable resistance the body & mind put up to stop it out of an unconscious, machine-like mandate to preserve itself, then, surely, that must mean the person in question must secretly want to live, to be truly odious/annoying and, by & large in most cases, I'd argue to be demonstrably false as well. What the bio-mechanical meatsuit I'm forced to wear wants and what the ephemeral
I wants, are simply two separate things in situations like these. The biologically programmed tenacity of the survival instinct can be quite formidable, but how the struggle with it as a suicidal individual can be misconstrued as betraying some fictitious desire to live, by the ignorant people observing said struggle, when in fact the opposite is true, is beyond me.
death itself is not good or bad
Death, while a blessed release from existence, is also part of what makes it so insidious in the first place. We're born to be annihilated and have our animal impulses fill us with crippling existential terror as a result (among other things, for starters). In that sense, death is just as awful as life. Another wretched piece in the phantasmagorical nightmare which encompasses this reality that none of us should have needed to be burdened with in the first place, had it not been for this shitty universe coming into being and spawning such twisted creations as the DNA molecule.
