Where does it really go?

Tired of seeking the ever elusive truth, realized that time is almost up. This has been, for the most part confusing and deeply troubling, if not terrifying. What lies ahead is a complete mystery. But it will arrive with certainty. I don't know whom to praise or whom to blame. To be frank, the question of "who am I" has never lead to anything comprehensible or consistent. Could there be anything more unsettling than the failure to have come to a coherent understanding for the existence of the self?