Ego Death and Terminal Agitation

The Panic Before the Breakthrough

I’m going to be perfectly honest—I’ve always hated the term “ego death.” It has so many different meanings, depending on the context, but one thing remains the same—the use of the word “death”— and an implication of a permanent dissolution of your self. And if that’s the case, what you’re truly working toward is a personality disorder.

Your ego isn’t some villain that needs to be eradicated. It’s your sense of self, your ability to navigate the world, form preferences, and make meaning out of experience. It’s what allows you to say I am. Without an ego, you wouldn’t have goals, relationships, or even a coherent identity. You wouldn’t be able to make decisions because there would be no you to make them.

The real problem isn’t having an ego, it’s being ruled by a rigid, unexamined one. That’s where suffering happens—when identity becomes so tightly wound that any shift feels like a threat. The goal, then, isn’t to kill the ego, but to loosen its grip—to create enough space to see beyond it without dissolving it completely.

Ego is simultaneously the part of us that can be confident—arrogant, even—scared, and unsure. It’s the part of us that gets angry when our boundaries have been crossed or we’ve faced injustice, and the part of us that allows us to settle for less because that’s familiar—and safe. It’s our petulant inner child that needs parenting, not exterminating.

It’s not some monolithic, bad thing. It’s a layered, paradoxical force within us.

If someone is aiming to eradicate their ego permanently, they’re essentially striving for a state of extreme dissociation or depersonalization—which aligns more with mental health conditions than spiritual enlightenment. There is a genuine risk of psychological fragmentation (which can resemble symptoms of dissociative disorders and schizophrenia) if someone were to push too far attempting to permanently dissolve their ego.

The idea that you have to dissolve into the collective or cling to rigid individuality is such a false binary. Let’s use ocean water as an example. The ocean is the whole—the collective—and a single drop of water is you. But that drop isn’t just one thing. It’s made of hydrogen, oxygen, and traces of salt and minerals. It exists both as an individual drop and as a part of something greater at the same time.

So, which part of the drop needs to be destroyed in order for it to belong in the ocean? None of them. The drop doesn’t cease to exist when it merges—it expands into something bigger while still containing everything it was.

In a healthy psyche, your connection to the collective and your individuality should coexist. And I’ll never understand the use of “ego death”—something that speaks of finality—to describe a temporary goal. The reality is, that when people speak of killing their ego, they’re more accurately suspending it. Or, reparenting their inner child.

And if you’re someone who has ever felt like this is what you need to do to be the most healthy and evolved version of yourself, you’ve undoubtedly met some serious resistance. So let me explain why it often requires hardcore psychedelics, and/or years of deep subconscious work to be able to temporarily set aside your ego:

Terminal agitation.

Terminal agitation is the restless, panicked, and often distressing state that occurs when someone is near death. It is the body and mind’s last-ditch effort to survive—a striking response to the loss of control—a final burst of resistance before the inevitable.

Just as the body resists its own ending, the ego resists transformation. When faced with deep change it thrashes, clings, and fights to survive—mistaking growth for annihilation. This is why personal transformation can feel chaotic, terrifying, and overwhelming.

How many times have you been on the brink of a breakthrough only to be met with anxiety, panic, and the inexplicable urge to self-destruct? Your ego senses the loss of control, and it reacts like it’s dying. It doesn’t care if the transformation is good. It just knows things are shifting, and that terrifies it.

• Anxiety and panic sound the alarm bells that something is wrong, even though there is no logical reason.

• Self-sabotage has you backing away from opportunities, ghosting people, or reverting to old habits.

• You’ve got a white-knuckle grip on what you know because a familiar hell is better than an unfamiliar heaven.

• You’re lashing out, picking fights, or feeling like everything is too much.

• You feel lost, even disconnected from yourself—you no longer know who you are, or like you’re floating without an anchor.

I need you to know that these aren’t signs of failure—they’re proof that something inside is shifting.

You don’t need to kill your ego. You need to teach it how to bend.

Ego flexibility is the ability to move between identity and transformation without falling apart. Instead of perceiving every shift as a threat to survival, a flexible ego adapts, evolves, and expands.

Here are some ways to cultivate flexibility:

• Recognize the resistance for what it is. When anxiety spikes, self-sabotage takes over, or you start clinging to old patterns—pause. Ask yourself: Is this fear, or is this growth?

• Reframe the experience. Instead of, “I’m losing myself,” shift to “I’m evolving beyond who I used to be.” Instead of “I don’t know who I am anymore,” try “I’m in the process of becoming.”

• Let the ego have a seat at the table. Invite it to become your consultant, not your commander. Remember, it’s not the enemy. It’s the part of you (for better or worse) that keeps you safe. Instead of rejecting it, acknowledge it. Ask: “What are you afraid of? What do you need from me?” Then reassure it! We are not dying. We are changing.

• Ground yourself in the present. When your ego is in survival mode, it’s easy to get lost in fear of the unknown. Bring yourself back to now. Breathe. Notice your connection to your surroundings—maybe it’s your feet on the floor, the weight of your body in your seat, the feeling of your hands resting in your lap or on an armrest. If physical sensations aren’t accessible, focus on something around you—a sound, a texture, a steady rhythm. Find one thing that anchors you in this moment. Focus on one small thing you can do today.

• Trust that this is temporary. Just like terminal agitation in the body, ego resistance is not a permanent state. It’s the threshold before the breakthrough.

The goal isn’t to destroy yourself. It’s to expand yourself.

Your ego doesn’t need to die. It needs to learn how to flow.

You don’t need to fight every change—you need to build a self that is strong and adaptable. One that can step forward without clinging to what was, and without fear of what’s to come. Or, at the very least, to be afraid—and move forward anyway.

This short story I wrote goes well with what we’ve just talked about: