You know those revelation stages that you have to face from time to time in your life? Those kinds of disillusions that murder all your heroes one by one... It generally starts at the age of 6-7 when you realize that Santa Claus is just an illusion. And the Easter bunny, and the Tooth Fairy. Killed them all in a two-minute pitiless interrogation to my mum.
HOW MY SUPERMAN DIED
But the harshest revelation of all is probably the moment when you realize that you're not invincible, that you're no more special than your neighbor. Even if you theoretically know that you're not, it may not be enough for you to believe it.
I lived a quarter of century with a little superman inside me. He died two years ago when I broke my knee. Not immediately. It took me a month after I tore my ligament to realize that it was broken for real, and that I was consequently breakable. That is to say, not invincible. I too could be seriously hurt.
Two years and a good fixing later, I've learnt to deal with the loss. Rather than relying on a fake idol, I trust myself, my body and my mind. (And my lucky star - that one is not dead... yet.)