What If 2034 Isn’t the End After All?

Hi everyone. I’ve been struggling quite badly with lack of meaning in my life lately. I mean, last week was pretty productive, but unfortunately that didn’t last.

Last Sunday, I was also discussing my comment that everything will be okay in 2034 with my wife. As regular readers of this blog know, I got the idea from the book 2034. Not that I’ve read it, but it’s about the next world war and I somehow decided to flip things around and say that everything will be okay. Originally, I was sort of serious, like I used to be about 2021 back in the early years of my blog. Now though, the only way I can picture 2034 is it being the end of the world in some kind of nuclear war.

My wife put things into perspective for me, saying that while it’s possible there’ll be a war between the U.S. and China in the coming decade, Europe most likely won’t be involved. That doesn’t mean there aren’t other risks, of course, but it sounds unlikely that the world is going to be blast to hell in 2034 or before.

This, however, doesn’t feel entirely comforting. The thing is, I’ve built my life around the idea that I won’t have ten more years to live. I’ll be 48 in 2034. That isn’t young, but it’s way too young to be dying of natural causes.

It somehow feels safe to say I will die in 2034 anyway. This allows me the luxury of not making any long-term plans. It allows me to take life day by day, week by week. It also allows me not to worry about my quality of life in the long run, which if I do think about it, doesn’t look good. My one-on-one has to be reassessed at the end of 2026. I’m scared that it’ll be cut and I’ll be forced to take more sedating medications to deal with the resulting challenging behavior. If that’s my life from 2027 on, all I can hope for is that it doesn’t last long.

Also, if life drags on past 2034, there’s no urgency to help me improve my quality of life. Not that there is according to the powers that be anyway. The team manager literally asked me what I’d do if everything isn’t alright by 2034. This was six months ago, when I was actively considering ending my life. I’ve not been actively suicidal since, but my life being finite has been on my mind all the time. And I’m not sure how I feel about this. On the one hand, I really want to make the most of the remainder of my life, but on the other hand, I am paralyzed by, well, I honestly don’t know what, and this leads me to think that I’d be better off dead.