Letter about the way out of Hell

30th of august 2019

Hi A

I wrote something today. But it’s not something for the internet. I’m not even sure it was for you. I think it was for me. A letter that I can’t send because I’m not ready to let it go, let alone receive it. That needs to be okay today.

I’m thinking a lot about you. I had so much I wanted to write, but none of those things left my fingers today.
It’s been a week of trying to do the right thing. And I even think I succeeded. But I don’t feel success. I feel like dying. Or fighting like hell to live. But I feel like life, real life, life that isn’t just surviving, is too far away.
A few days ago, after doing one of those right things that I truly believe was right, because I helped a friend, I think I left myself shattered into pieces. After that, on the way home in the train, I was thinking about finding my way out of Hell. I know that’s what you are trying to do. Our friend is trying to do it. I have spend my whole life doing it. And I wrote this in my notebook.

Finding our way out of Hell is painful.
It feels like the opposite of healing.
But that doesn’t mean that’s true.

I believe in a way out.
I believe they (you and our friend) will make it.
But my own experience with making my way out is

The people who pushed you into Hell (whether by malice or desperation or ignorance or negligence) will try to keep you lost there.

And then I added a sentence that have been stuck with me for a year and a half now.

Help isn’t coming

That’s the hardest thing now. I’ve spend half my life asking for help and I’m finally waking up to the fact that help isn’t coming. All the stupid therapy I was sent to. All the therapists that promised they could help. All the false optimism in my family believing I’ll get better. It’s all a lie. Even if the people telling the lie doesn’t know they are lying. It’s still a lie. It’s still untrue. It’s exit signs pointing in circles keeping me lost in Hell. And I don’t know the way out.
I believe in the way out. With all my heart. I promise you A. I promise. I believe in it. For you. For our friend. And if I could just get a little guidance, a compass, a map or something. And a hand to hold. I believe even I’ll make it out. Hell isn’t all there is. And if it is, I’ll tear this world down and build a new one. One without Hells like this. I refuse to let you or me or anyone live in this Hell if I can find a way to stop it. And I’ll either find a way or make one. Or die trying.
I hope you know that.

A, I’m desperately trying to find a way to life. I am feeling like all the ways I have leads to death. And as we both know I’m okay dying. I’m not okay surviving like this. Not much longer.
I know my pain and my desperation and the pull toward death is so strong inside me. So I wrote this today, to tell you, to remind you that I am more fight, power and stubbornness than I have reason and common sense. And I lack neither of those.
And I know that I was gifted a light that you weren’t. I wish you were. I wish I could give it to you. But I know you have to ignite it for yourself. I can only use my light and hope than you’ll draw inspiration from it. I know I deserve better. I know I have value, and that never wavers. Even when the whole world tells me otherwise. That part of me is indestructible. That part of me refuses to break. And this sentence won’t make sense to anyone but me, but I still need to write it. That part of me is in the safest hands I know.

I have so much good in me. So much I want to give and share. And the world has so much hurt that I want to help heal. I want to make this a better place before I leave it.
I want to build mirrors for people like me, so no one like me has to think they are worthless or not welcome on the world. So someone like me doesn’t feel alone.
I want to heal hurt and save everyone I can safe, even if it’s just one person and even if some days it feels like that person might be me. I am worth saving. And so are you. And I hope, with all my heart, that I don’t fail to save you. I know I am not supposed to be the only person who saves you. But I want to help save you. I want to help you make sure you are safe and saved and finding you way out of Hell, to life or at least to Here. And then I want to keep saving and rebuild this world. Because the systems of this world was build broken. They were build wrong. And I believe I have a responsibility to help make it better.

But I can’t do any of this if I don’t find my way to Here. To living. Away from just surviving. And these days it’s killing me that I have all this fight and power and stubbornness, so much sense and reason and intelligence and I want to use all of it on finding my way Here. And the way is blocked and I need that stupid hand to hold. Not because I am to helpless to walk it alone. Because that hand to hold might be both the compass and the motivation I need to actually get out this time. And I don’t think that makes any sense in words, but I don’t have better words right now.

And that was a lot of words that wanted out. I was just trying to write that I might not write any real letter today. I guess I was wrong.

Next Friday I am busy. And I am not sure I’ll upload. I’ll try to write something earlier in the week. But here is a heads up that I might miss next weeks letter. And I feel like I am allowed to do that because I told you in advance.

Lookind forward to hearing from you