Summary of “Dread accompanies me through life but it is not without consolation”

My parents’ deaths, occupying polar positions on a spectrum of suddenness, infected my life with a persistent dread; they suffused my life with an incurable anxiety, a dread that did not require an identifiable object.
An anxiety is a lens through which to view the world, a colouration that grants the sufferer’s experiences their distinctive hue.
My trajectory through the world is thus informed, at every step, by the anxieties that afflict me.
Søren Kierkegaard suggested in The Concept of Anxiety that one of existentialism’s hard-fought rewards – our encounters with true freedom – comes with the terrible burden of encounters with dread and anxiety.
Anxiety taught me the place that death has in my life.
The upending of this world’s order by my parents’ deaths and my resultant anxiety made me suffer a conceptual shift in my understanding of its workings; it became a philosophical commonplace for me to believe in claims about this world’s malleability through our conscious, emotional, not-entirely rational understanding of it.
To believe that there was a final end to my life, a purpose, a destination, an intended teleology, was to be infected with an anxiety that I was not fulfilling my purpose in life, that I was ‘wasting’ my life.
Because of my anxieties, I have come to understand why I’m the philosopher I am, why I hold the views I do, why I do not trust that there is an inherent, essential, meaning or purpose to life.

The orginal article.