Neurotic
The word for my mental state perhaps popped into my head last night: neurotic. Anxious about all the things I realistically can't control; a constant babysitter; gently, incessantly concerned for things.
A little Google search provided an answer: think about death.
Hey, not a bad idea.
It sounds funny, but I've been here before. The times I was only concerned with my own world, when I constantly invented, I had death on my mind. It was strangely, immediately present; right in my face. I had to get the most out of my day because I was going to not have a day at some point. I felt this coursing through my body with every beat of my heart.
Every minute was important because it was that minute. The simple fact it existed was enough to make it significant.
I've lost that feeling with the infinite distractions I've decided to entangle myself with. So I'm back to thinking about death. Whereas it came naturally then as a means, here I have the end in mind — and I must consciously follow this path there.
I'm going to die some day. Feel my heartbeat; breathe deeply.