Hi. I knew someone would eventually show up to this damnable place.
I’m not sure what or where this place is– if it’s even on earth, God knows— but I’ll give you the tour.
I’ve seen countless faces here. It feels like a purgatory. An in-between place.
It’s dark, cold, and lonely. The ground below you is hard. Down here, everything has varying shades of gray and time holds no authority. Is it night? Day? I don’t know. They both seem to meld together making the two indistinguishable from one another. The sounds here are muffled like you’re one thousand leagues under a sea of syrupy molasses. Each limb feels like they’re being weighed down. Even though you’re one hundred percent sure that there is nothing there, you’re still anxious and pulling out your hair because you’re also one hundred percent sure something is lurking. It’s too quiet.
Behind the billowing darkness, there is an innocuous disembodied smile with warm promises on its lips. It seems familiar. It beckons you over. I urge you not to listen. Do not go near it. Do not allow it to come near you. Many people have accidentally wandered down here, listened to the whispers on the wind, and never returned. I’ve stared into the darkness until it stared right back into me. It felt like something familiar and warm, at first – like a mother’s embrace. That is until a cold chill quickly climbed up my spine. When I came to, what I saw was horrifying. A hellscape littered with mangled bodies. It looked as though they were eaten from the inside out. I narrowly escaped its effortless persuasion.
There is another who lurks about. He is angry. He walks with slumped shoulders and a round back. His eyes are sunken in and lifeless. He wears his feelings over his body from head to toe like a freshly pressed black, corporate suit. He always seems to shout obscenities at you when you’re already feeling down, adding salt to old wounds that never seem to heal. Some days he says this and that and is more akin to an annoying fly buzzing around your ear. Other days, his remarks are pointed, callous, and hard to ignore. Luckily, there are times where the sounds from above can distract you from hearing him for a little while.
Close your eyes, cover your ears and steady your breath. Draw your mind to the center of your chest. Breath deeply. Imagine a pulsing circle radiating from the center of your being, outward to the world around you… Good. Now, imagine a sphere of blinding energy bursting from your chest, encircling your body from head to toe. It may not be warm, it may feel empty, and you may not be sure what this is, but still – keep at it. Focus… Focus… Ah. There it is… That right there is the secret to keeping it at bay. The more you train this, the easier you can repel the danger lying in wait. Keep it in your back pocket. I encourage you to use it regularly.
Set your sights upward. Do you see the point where the long walls blend into bright, warm, populated skies? You may not just yet because you’ve only just arrived here, but once your eyes adjust you’ll see. The birds in the sky fly with a sense of freedom. I smile wryly in jealousy when I see them sometimes. Despite the acoustics down here, the sounds of mirth that come from the people above always seem to float down here in crisp tones. Sometimes, people look into the hole and frantically look around trying to help the person who fell in here. It’s a nice feeling, being noticed and cared for. I don’t want them to fall in, too, so I tell them it’s alright. But I also don’t want them to leave, either… The skies look so impossibly blue. I bet the air there isn’t as suffocating as it is down here.
It seems so, so far away. It seems so out of reach. But judging by the long, claw-like marks on the wall, it seems like it is possible to get out of here… I’m not sure how myself, I’m still trying to figure out a way. I do think what I just taught you is the beginning of finding that answer and the person at the top is a piece of the puzzle as well. We have to try to scale this wall and get out of here.
We have to try.
I didn’t originally mean for this to come out as a first-person story-telling experience. But the more I wrote, it felt like I was talking to someone. Me, even. It’s cathartic writing this.
I suffer from depression, mainly, but I do have bouts of anxiety that send me into an all-out hair-pulling, nail-biting, leg-shaking frenzy. At one point, the anxiety was so bad that I was scared to leave the house for fear of thinking someone was out to kidnap me. Never mind the fact that I had no other reason to believe that than reading /r/NoSleep stories on Reddit. Stories like PenPal and Correspondence and authors like Inaaace and Searchandrescuewoods reeeeeeally. Fucked. Me. Up.
But that’s not the point – the threat was real to me. And no matter how much I tried to tell myself I was just being silly or had other people try to console me, I was still frightened of the outside world. It was overwhelming. Fortunately for me, when my old therapist put me on medication, most of my paranoia and anxiety went away.
I still read NoSleep to this day (I’m a horror and gore lover), but at a much lower frequency nowadays (like most other things I used to love doing), due to my depression making everything feel so drab and blasé.
Brevity is fa’ the fuckin’ boids.
I digress. I say aaaall of this to say that I understand. I’ve been there and I still am. I know it’s really fucking hard to muster up the energy every day to fight for something that seems like it’ll never even be within a light year of my grasp. I know how tiring every day is and how tired you feel. I am perpetually tired no matter how many naps or how many hours of consecutive sleep I get. I know that it feels like everything is futile. I know how it feels to try and try and try and still fail. Life is unfair. Everyone’s out to get you. Nobody likes you. Nobody wants you. You can’t do anything right. (Can I get a Ameeen–t in the back?)
It’s OK to fail. Just struggle to get back up and back on the path. It’s OK to feel the way you do. There’s a reason that you feel the way you feel. But realize there is always a way to fix it. This is not where your story ends. This is not how you’ll be remembered. Everyone is here for a reason, no matter what you believe. You touch lives. You make a ripple in the sea. No matter how small. No matter how long that ripple lasts.
You matter. It doesn’t matter how much you feel you don’t. Because you do. You always will matter. You will affect someone’s life. You will change something simply from being alive. Everyone and everything is interconnected. As they say in Fullmetal Alchemist, one of my all-time favorite anime (heeeeey, Edward Elric ?), “all is one and one is all”. That is powerful.
You’ve got to feel better to attract better things. The denser the positive energy that surrounds you, the more things of similar vibrational energy will be pulled your way. That’s how it works. If, for example, all you do is think negative thoughts, the stronger the filter over your eyes to see the bad in everything. You now have a strong bias. Similarly, if you attract the worst people, the common denominator is you. You’re putting out the pulled that kind of energy into your sacred space. You’ve got to change something about yourself so that you can attract the people you want to be around.
I know it’s easier said than done. Maybe five days ago I went through an awful period of feeling like I was just going to teeter off the edge and into its deceitfully warm embrace. But I staved it off. I fought. I cried like a baby. I laughed uncontrollably; I thought I was going to die from how hard I was laughing and how breathless I was becoming. I yelled till my throat felt like scraps of polyester wool. I kicked like a frightened horse. I did whatever I needed to in order to fight the feeling. I did what I needed to to get it out of my head. But I did it. It hurt like a bitch, but I did it. For this moment, I am sane enough to write like I’ve got it all under control. To help another unfortunate soul, who might find himself in that awful place again.
You can create the things you want if you want them bad enough. You can create the space you want if you work hard enough on yourself. You can get the dream job if you really want it. Sometimes, the things you want isn’t even what you really want or need like you think you do. And in your journey, your eyes will open to what it is that truly is for you. That is even more fucking amazing.
It’s only up from here b o i s, ‘cuz you really can’t get any lower. Don’t listen to the inkling that says you can. Breathe. Tap into that energy where you feel like you can push it away. Then, do it.
You can do it.
Until next time,
Peace and Peace.