In my own life, I call this "the itch". Every few years, I uproot my entire life, change jobs, change lifestyle, become a new person, etc. This is not quite hy

In my own life, I call this "the itch". Every few years, I uproot my entire life, change jobs, change lifestyle, become a new person, etc. This is not quite hyperbole; I'm literally in the process of selling my house and moving across the country. What can I say? I got "the itch". It's a futile attempt to regain control of my dwindling life. It's beyond fear of death -- it's fear that I've wasted my short duration of life on Earth. It's a sad attempt to use every lever in reach to leave some permanence in a world that moves too fast to notice or care about me. I am so so lucky to have semi-constructive avenues to redirect my itches. Shoot, I'm even lucky to have time for introspection and internet comments. Lots of other people get the itch too but can't scratch it. They will not or cannot exercise enough autonomy to pinpoint and treat their anxieties. In this way, society has indeed failed them. Life is not working for them. And so they pull the only levers they have, with the only resources they have, with that dwindling clock eating everything they know.