NancyLostinLife

I’ve been feeling hopeless about the future lately. It’s not a new feeling, I’ve spent years minimising my thoughts on the future especially nothing longer than a year. When I was younger I had a road map in my head of how my life would go and when reality took a detour I freaked out. It felt best after that to avoid trying to plan too far ahead. Yet I have depression and anxiety so my thoughts are rarely able to stay in the present. Instead, I ruminate on my past and catastrophise my future.

Apocalyptic Catastrophising

I remember when I learnt the word catastrophising, a cognitive distortion that prompts people to jump to the worst possible conclusion, it was during one of my first rounds of CBT (Cognitive Behavioural Therapy) and when I heard it I felt an instant connection to the word. It summed up perfectly the way my mind seemed to work—a constant snowball of awful scenarios that played in my head since I was a very young child. When I was young there were times in the summer holidays when I’d unintentionally isolate myself for hours or days. I’d be holed up in my room, living the introvert dream when suddenly my mind would concoct apocalyptic zombie scenarios in which I had somehow missed the spread of the zombifying virus by being such a hermit. I’d be half convinced that when I finally chose to leave my flat I’d find a London similar to the one depicted in 28 days later. Eerily quiet, litter-ridden and zombie-infested. I’d devise a plan to barracked myself in our small windowless toilet with my bedding, some books and cans of food. Of course, once I did venture out I found a London just as busy and uncaring of my intricately made-up zombie apocalypse nightmare as ever.

Other than mental zombie apocalypse fan fiction, I feel like the world’s been ending since about 2012. I was told the world would end by the hysteria caused by the apparent ending of the Maya calendar which the British news went mental about for months. It was also the year my Dad died which may have caused a deeper fascination with death and the dreaded end in my mind. In some ways, part of my world ended that year.

Between 2012 and now I along with millions of others have watched and experienced multiple terrorist attacks, riots, a global pandemic, several wars, natural disasters and political turmoil. The current state of the world seems to have me and others obsessed with the world ending. A peer-reviewed 2021 survey of people aged between 16 and 25 globally found that 56% agreed with the statement “Humanity is doomed”. But is it? And do we care?

The Human Desire For The World To End

Humanity has a sick fascination with the world ending. Predictions are constant and not just within weird cults but in the mainstream. Humans are catastrophisers because fear is a big money maker. The press, media and people in general have predicted the apocalypse for thousands of years. Halley’s Comet, Y2K, Heaven’s Gate, The Large Hadron Collider, The Cold War, The Great Fire of London and any big global event seems to have us all jumping to apocalypse without any real proof except our empathy for our fellow humans and a general feeling of “it’s coming for us next”.

So part of me feels like the world is ending and another part of me has seen enough doomsday prophecies not to get my hopes up. There’s an anxiety but also a feeling of acceptance.

Thinking about this has made me realise that when I say the world feels like it’s ending what I really mean is MY world feels like its ending. After all, what is the world outside my experience of it to me? There are places in the world where life as people knew it ended. To them, their worlds have ended and yet here I am waiting for it to end. Scared of the possibility because I was lucky enough to be born in England. I’m anxious about climate change as a concept because I’m not being affected by it yet. The fear of possibility in this case is a privilege that I can’t help but acknowledge. Yet I also want to give myself a space to grieve the world I was promised that I feel is disappearing in front of my eyes. It’s hard to feel hopeful when the meritocracy you were told would award your hard work doesn’t exist. It’s painful to look around and see rising employment, poverty and inequality. To know that your part of those statistics even though you did everything you were told would save you from this fate. It’s heartbreaking to feel so powerless as the bad news keeps coming and I feel like I’m standing on a hill during the great flood. The water is rising. There’s no one coming to save me and I don’t know how to save myself. I can only tread water for so long because I’m already tired. So how do I feel like the world’s not ending?

What To Do When The World Hasn’t Ended

Right now I’m trying to take every day as it comes. Just getting to the end of the day is my goal. I focus on the things I can control and take steps to make my life a little better every day. I try to be respectful to everyone and minimise the harm I do to the world but ultimately I know I’m in no position to take on the burden of the world possibly ending.

The truth is we don’t know if the world is ending, many have thought it was before and in many ways they were much closer yet here we are still pottering on. Maybe the world will end tomorrow, maybe it won’t but all I know is that I want to leave the world knowing I did more good then harm.

So, reader, I task you with going out into your personal worlds and doing something that makes it a little better. Throw out a compliment, pick up some litter, text a friend or commit a random act of kindness. Whatever it is, small or big, pat yourself on the back and know you did more good than harm.