Venting Scared of being forgotten

[iLikeFrogs]

I've been at my lowest lately, low enough that no medication or therapy helps. I was planning on ctb'ing soon but as much as it wasn't bothering me before, now I'm afraid that people will forget me. It's not the death that scares me but if they'll forget me wouldn't it be like I never existed? Wouldn't that mean that all the pain and sufferig I endured was for nothing?

One of my favourite creators on the bloody clock up had ctb on livesteam 2 days ago. I can't blame him- it would be hypocrisy if I did- but after it happened I started to be scared of being basically erased from people's memories. Whole situation about this is messed up and some part of me grieves- even though I didn't know him personally, it all was just parasocial interaction. The reason why I'm writing it now is that after those events I had realized how unimportant and small I am. I never achieved anything that would make people want to remember me, I hadn't managed to build my own small community and how I am this boring background character that no one notices.

I'm just torn apart since for the most time I was getting the tickets I was sure that I'm ready to commit, that I'm at peace with my own death and only thing stopping me is my SI but I'm having second thoughts now. I don't really have anyone I could vent to or ask for advice, especially in this case so I guess I had to get in out of my system by screaming into the void.

 

[Jealous Blackheart]

It's a strange thought. Existing. Being remembered. It's another SI response. Your body's bid for immortality. You are, fundamentally, a save file of genetic information of the people who came before you. Wanting to be remembered, to leave a mark on the world, is akin to wanting to reproduce. To survive into the future after your death. It's a kind of immortality. Even this is natural. Many of your innate biological desires are designed for this.

I don't know how you define important. Important to who? To what? Scale matters. On the scale of the world's history, humans have barely existed at all. On the scale of the universe our solar system is entirely unimportant. What is something you think is important? You're afraid of being forgotten, but do you forget? Do you remember the people you went to school with? Do you remember the people you used to have a crush on? Do you remember fictional characters from movies you saw as a child or books you've read? Lyrics to songs? If so, why do you assume everyone else forgets?

There are many questions worth asking, but this thread made me think of this song by Frank Turner. A friend of mine once told me about it. They said it reminded them of me. Now I'm sharing it with you.

Spoiler: One Foot Before The Other

On the very day I die, the very last of my desires
Is that you take my broken body and commit it to the fire
And then when the fire is finished, scrape the ashes in a tin
Take them down to London's drinking reservoirs and throw them in
And then specks infinitesimal of my mortal remains
Will slide down 7 million throats and into 7 million veins
And I will creep through their capillaries to the marrow of their bones
And they will wake to bright new mornings and then wordlessly they'll know

That I remain
I am remembered
I remain
I am remembered

So these 7 million innocents, they will have me in their blood
And when they die they'll burn their bodies or be buried in the mud
And I will spread through streams and rivers like a virus through a host
From the hamlets to the cities from the rivers to the coast
And from there into the channel across the great Atlantic Ocean
And ever onwards to the new world through the waters gentle motions
Until parts of me are part of every land mass, every sea
In the rain, upon your crops and in the very air you breathe

I remain
I am remembered
I remain
I am remembered
I remain

And though the things I love will be washed away in the rain
I remain.

I'm not convinced of the existence of these things that don't exist
By Jewish boys with big ideas and scratches on their wrists
By a loving or a vengeful God or one who condescends
To wash his hands down in the mire among the misery of men
Or by ever turning circles hanging timeless in the sky
Like a dream catcher distracting from the fact you're going to die
But I place one foot before the other, confident because
I know that everything we are right now is everything that was
That Watt Tyler, Woody Guthrie, Dostoevsky and Davy Jones
Have all dissolved into the ether and have crept into my bones
And all the cells in all the lines upon the backs of both my hands
Were once carved into the details of two feet upon the sand

So we remain
We are remembered
We remain
We are remembered
We remain

And though the things we love will be washed away in the rain
We remain​