Spiritual and bittersweet

I struggled with depression and anxiety for many years. One key factor has always been existential dread; I remember being about nine, laying in bed, looking at the ceiling, and realizing, "I'm going to die one day--and then what? Nothing?".

That thought turned into terror, peaking in high school; I would have daily panic attacks--the most intense fear imaginable. I dropped out; I was crippled. Literally everything triggered me; I remember dragging my fingers across the stucco exterior wall, and then suddenly, "One day, I'll never feel this texture again". I lived like this up until around 18-19, when I managed to finally "accept" it enough to where the panic attacks would be every few months rather than every few hours.

Believe me when I say, if I could believe in a god, or an afterlife, I would; I would've literally killed for that reassurance that life is not pointless. No matter how badly I wanted to have faith, I just couldn't; not Islam, not Christianity, not Judaism, at least.

The thing that finally brought me relief was first, realizing that fundamentally, logically, nothing should exist, so how can I say for certain that nothing comes after, and second, funnily, finding an interpretation of an after that felt at least somewhat believable -- particularly thanks to Hotel del Luna and Tomorrow.