True Story: I Have Apeirophobia (the fear of infinity)

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Apeirophobia is also known as:

⊙The fear of infinity

⊙Infinity phobia

⊙The fear of space going on forever

⊙The fear of things that never end

Infinity is a floorless room without walls or ceiling.

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Symptoms:

Shortness of breath or smothering sensation

Palpitations, pounding heart, or accelerated heart rate

Feeling unsteady, dizzy, lightheaded, or faint

“Eternity is said not to be an extension of time but an absence of time, and sometimes it seemed to me that her abandonment touched that strange mathematical point of endlessness, a point with no width, occupying no space.”
-Graham Greene

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Ever since I was little, I’ve had panic attacks whenever I thought about the fact that when we die (no matter what your beliefs are) the ending is perpetual.

People from church used to try to reassure me by reminding me how wonderful heaven will be, but that’s not the point. The point is that your life never actually ENDS.

I’m not even that afraid of dying because you die and then that part is over.

If I go to heaven, I’ll be in a beautiful place with God and people I love….FOREVER.
If nothing happens, nothing happens…..FOREVER.

There’s no getting out of it. It’s inevitable and it’s forever. And ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever…..

The most helpful thing for me has been to bring myself back to the present moment and consider it like a journey.

When you plan for a journey, you have all these preconceived notions but once you are actually there it is so very different from what you expected and you just put one foot in front of the other.

“”I mean, d’you know what eternity is? There’s this big mountain, see, a mile high, at the end of the universe, and once every thousand years there’s this little bird-”

“What little bird?” said Aziraphale suspiciously.

“This little bird I’m talking about. And every thousand years-”

“The same bird every thousand years?”

Crowley hesitated. “Yeah,” he said.

“Bloody ancient bird, then.”

“Okay. And every thousand years this bird flies-”

“-limps-”

“-flies all the way to this mountain and sharpens its beak-”

“Hold on. You can’t do that. Between here and the end of the universe there’s loads of-” The angel waved a hand expansively, if a little unsteadily. “Loads of buggerall, dear boy.”

“But it gets there anyway,” Crowley persevered.

“How?”

“It doesn’t matter!”

“It could use a space ship,” said the angel.

Crowley subsided a bit. “Yeah,” he said. “If you like. Anyway, this bird-”

“Only it is the end of the universe we’re talking about,” said Aziraphale. “So it’d have to be one of those space ships where your descendants are the ones who get out at the other end. You have to tell your descendants, you say, When you get to the Mountain, you’ve got to-” He hesitated. “What have
they got to do?”

“Sharpen its beak on the mountain,” said Crowley. “And then it flies back-”

“-in the space ship-”

“And after a thousand years it goes and does it all again,” said Crowley quickly.

There was a moment of drunken silence.

“Seems a lot of effort just to sharpen a beak,” mused Aziraphale.

“Listen,” said Crowley urgently, “the point is that when the bird has worn the mountain down to nothing, right, then-”

Aziraphale opened his mouth. Crowley just knew he was going to make some point about the relative hardness of birds’ beaks and granite mountains, and plunged on quickly.

“-then you still won’t have finished watching The Sound of Music.”

Aziraphale froze.

“And you’ll enjoy it,” Crowley said relentlessly. “You really will.”

“My dear boy-”

“You won’t have a choice.”

“Listen-”

“Heaven has no taste.”

“Now-”

“And not one single sushi restaurant.”

A look of pain crossed the angel’s suddenly very serious face.”

-from Good Omens by Neil Gaiman