I Can't Deal With Endings

Endings surround us all the time, and they terrify me. You may find yourself asking why? And so here I am to explain.

I can’t deal with endings, the idea that something eventually has to finish is one that I so often push to the back of my mind in an attempts of finding peace. This is a problem, and a problem that is leaving me living in this strange nostalgic trance that I keep posting about on here.

If you know me, you know I tear through books like there is no tomorrow. You will also notice how when I get to the last sixty or so pages I begin to slow my pace (especially if it is a book that I have particularly enjoyed reading) because that way I am able to draw out time and give myself longer until I say goodbye to the story and the characters. 

There is something so bittersweet about being so thrown into something and in turn being so immersed that the ending is a terrifying thought, however for me this fear doesn’t just exist within the pages of books. This something is what will always make me cling to a situation or a place or a person for as long as humanly possible instead of accepting the ending and leaving with grace and full composure. 

Just yesterday afternoon I finished season six of Teen Wolf to find my immediate response to this ending being Googling when season seven comes out. It turns out there is most likely not going to be a season seven, much to my dismay. This was probably one of the strangest reminders of my fear of endings that I have experienced recently, this idea that I power through things and get so emotionally invested in such a small amount of time doesn't just link to Teen Wolf but most of my life.

I will most likely always be the one to kick up a fight and refuse to accept that things have finished. I’m the kind of person that will cry in airport terminals because the place I call home isn’t really my home anymore and I need to find a way to be okay with that. The kind of person that will constantly make excuses with people that I feel myself drifting from to be able to see them, attempting to be the band aid that holds us back together. 

Recently though, I have realised how incredibly bad for me and my mental wellbeing this actually is. Things have to end, things have to come to a close, and I have to accept this fact. The phrase ‘nothing lasts forever’ used to be such a comfort for me but now it just fills me with dread, I find myself wondering why anyone ever even bothers with things if they aren’t going to last. I have such a strong obsession with permanence and leaving my mark (lets blame John Green and his portrayal of Augustus Walters for that one) that the fear I haven’t done enough before the ending scares me. 

What if something ends and I haven’t done enough in the time that it has lasted, said everything that I needed to say about the topic, written all the words I possibly could? What do I do then? Because I know the world will keep turning and my life will continue but won’t I just end up feeling this overwhelming sense of failure due to knowing that I didn’t achieve things to my full potential? 

Yet, endings happen for a reason. People leave you so that you are able to find new ones who may leave you too or may just end up staying for a lot longer than you could imagine, books end but you are able to pick up new ones and years end so that you are able to start a fresh. Okay, maybe that’s not actually why years end but it’s the reason I tell myself.

This year I am working on my fear of endings for entirely selfish reasons, considering everything that I have come to know for these past few months will draw to a close come the summer and I will be chucked into the deep end of university life (which in itself will end after three more years). Nothing is permanent and nothing will ever last forever. You can chose to be terrified of this, or you can chose to make this your reason to keep going. I am (trying to) make it my reason to keep going.

I don’t think that I will ever be one of those people that are fully able to live in the moment, I will always be terrified of forgetting some element of the life I am living and desperately try to capture it in the form of a photo or a metaphor in my journal. That is something I am okay with, something that I almost need to be able to do in order to be the kind of creative that I am. But I need to remind myself that we don’t know when things are going to end or when the last time with someone will be the last time.

For this reason and this reason alone, I need to appreciate the moments I am living in much more. I need to put my camera down for a second and stop the whirlwind of linguistic choices to describe the scene in front of me that whirls round my head all day long for a brief second and live. Perhaps, if I begin to live instead of clinging so tightly to moments that probably don’t even matter I will begin to get past this monumental fear that I hold towards things ending.