Existential panic attack, of the short-lived variety

The thing that sucks most about getting older (says the person who just had a birthday and so is thinking about this sort of thing) is that my eyesight, which was never good, is getting worse and worse. I just picked up my prescription progressive sunglasses and am feeling unhappy about the fact that my eyes are going to have to get used to adjusting between the different curvatures of my regular glasses and the sunglasses (the latter of which are larger so as to block more of the sun). My right eye, which has always been the weaker of the two, is having an especially hard time adjusting.

As I was leaving the optometry shop wearing my new sunglasses, I suddenly started wondering if I was going to go blind at some point in the future, and I got very panicky for a couple of minutes until I remembered to breathe and stop borrowing trouble. So I was already in a bit of a state before I started driving home, which no doubt accounts for the short-lived existential crisis that happened next.

I was driving home, musing on my eyesight but no longer courting hysteria about it, when it occurred to me, "I should really do this better next time" -- i.e., I should totally have better eyesight in my next life. And then, seconds later, I thought, "Wait a minute, what am I talking about? What next life? This is the only one I get! There are no do-overs, on my eyesight or anything else."

And for a few seconds there, I felt complete panic -- chest tightening, shortness of breath, the whole nine yards. And then I took a couple of breaths and started crying, but for less than a minute, probably. And then I was mostly okay again. After all, I've been living with the notion of one life to live for most of my years, so I'm used to it. But suddenly, for just a minute this afternoon, the idea was brand-new and most unwelcome.

This reminds me a little of a similar short-lived panic attack I had several years ago, again while driving (a pairing that I really should limit). There was a story on NPR about the universe expanding or shrinking or doing something, and suddenly, for about a minute, I lost everything that I thought I knew about the world. Once I righted myself, I had to laugh about the Alvie Singer-ness of it all (Woody Allen's character in Annie Hall), but for that minute, the panic was real.

I think the thing to do now is to pour myself a fruit juice and fizzy water, go sit in the backyard, and enjoy the one life I've been given.

Comments

[meansomething]

Not that this is a funny post particularly, but I am smiling with recognition at the "next time" thought, and I'm sure others are too.

Though I have begun to expect decrepitude, and in characteristic fashion, I can't get a twinge in my elbow without concluding that I will have a bad elbow for the rest of my days.

[undine]

I think about this when hoisting 30-pound containers of cat litter in each hand: "What happens when I'm old and can't lift this any more?"

[Thoroughly Educated]

If it's any consolation, you're not alone. I definitely did NOT expect that my early 40s would be characterized by not just intimations of mortality but almost obsessive thoughts about mortality. I think they have a lot more to do with having no idea what I'm doing with my life (i.e. whether I have accomplished or will accomplish anything) than with decrepitude (bifocals, knee arthritis). I'm afraid I've spent much of the last year perseverating on the thought that if I haven't accomplished anything by now, I might as well give up, because I'm dying anyway and it's all down hill from here. I wish middle age came with an owner's manual.

[Laura]

Oh, I used to have those panic attacks all the time. Ironically, I had them more often when I was much younger, up until my mid to late 20s. Those attacks have dissipated, but I still have them every once in a while.

[Jackie]

I have a birthday coming up next month and am having similar existential angst/panic about it. Good to know I'm not the only one.

[Articulate Dad]

Birthday? I forget how old I am. You need a couple kids around to make you feel really old. Ooh, honey, wait... daddy needs to rest... a ... little. Oh, ow... my knee.

I've gotten use to reading with one eye closed in bed, because my prescription for prism just doesn't cut it for close-up. But, that next time thing... hmmm... I hadn't thought about it. Maybe when I'm older I'll start believing that. That'd be consolation.

[Marie Harkey]

First off, I have to say that perseverate is one of my new favorite words and I love that TE used it in a comment. Secondly, I'm having a lot of my own existential angst these days. While on the one hand, not knowing what comes next feels kind of free, on the other, it feels a little frightening at 43. If someone gets that middle-age owner's manual, be sure to pass it along, okay?