Allow me to impose myself

I've always been afraid of dying. I had my first existential shock when I was about 9 years old while I was quietly watching the news. The Ebola virus was breaking out big time in the state of Zaire in Africa, and I immediately thought that the world was coming to an end. We were all going to catch this disease and soon I would find myself and my loved ones dying from internal hemorrhaging. That is genuinely what I thought was going to happen, and for about an entire afternoon I was scared shitless, crying and proclaiming that I didn't want to die. My mother calmed me down, but that particular episode has still manifested itself in me and become the moment I realized my own mortality. Ever since then death has been a weird shapeless pointless concept for me.

I've never been a dark or sinister character. My main traits, as the people around me see me, are that I am always positive, very laid back and collected in my way of handling crisis, and that I'm a very patient person. All of that may be true. I push things that bother me aside, in favor of focusing on what I can acchieve here and now. The long perspective consequence rarely enters my thought stream when I'm put in a stressful situation. Why I act like that I still don't know exactly. I guess I am very comfortable in my own quietness and lazyness, which makes me shy away from confrontation. I just don't see stressing and fretting about as very productive behaviour, although being lazy isn't either. My girlfriend says I underestimate myself too much. That is very true. A pattern of behaviour I've developed in my childhood. I was restless and bored with math, and I got confused very easily, basically because it didn't interest me. Math is too structured, there's a fight for one goal, one result that is supposed to let you cash in some sort of self-satisfaction with your work. I strive for researching the means rather than striving to get to the finishing line. And because of there always being a bunch of math exercises that needed to be done in my school bag, and in the back of my mind, I just gave up on it. It became a struggle to just get them out of the way, not caring how I did them so I would maybe have an easier time finding the solution to the next one, and to some extent their presence along with my own rediculous approach to the work, it slowed me down. Now it was not just math that became a problem... what I would find interesting at first, became an obsticle preventing me from returning to my little bubble of thoughts, analysis, assessment, and inner discussion. In that bubble I'm safe because it's free of other inputs than the ones I bring in there myself. And what I bring in, is what concerns me and what interests me. I am a very introvert person. And what you get out of me, is never up to you. It's what I give you myself. I'm still questioning whether I am a good person, being the way I am. But the fact that I ask myself that very question, assures me that I am pretty alright. At least for now. Or maybe it's my want to push aside things a bit too large for me to wrap my thoughts around. I honestly can't say.