Back on speaking terms with The Reaper

After a dismal vacation that saw another false hope dashed on the rocks like a glass-bottom boat, and an excruciating first day back on the job, I found myself engulfed in a whirlwind of depression, rage, and other warm, fluffy feelings, and unable to get to sleep fast enough, so I went to the store for some sleeping potion.  As I exited the store, I found the night pleasantly calm and quiet.  I paused to gaze up at the night sky, and was struck by how strangely beautiful its perfect blackness was.  It then occurred to me how similar that endless blackness was to the sensory vacuum that I've always feared death to be.  And I thought, maybe it won't be so bad.  At least I'll be free of the incessant battering my mind doles out whenever afforded the opportunity.  No more mental tornadoes of every possible negative thought available to my memory.  No more smashing my head against the wall of humanity.  No more regret, or fear, or embarrassment, or annoyance...just...nothing.  Peace.  If only I could find a smooth transition into it...