Meet me in Hell.

I heard a new definition of hell this morning.  One that is so perfect I can’t let it go.

Hell: That place in the living world, right here, right now, that sits between two polarized options.  Two ideas or feelings, or actions–two anythings that make your insides feel like they are ripping into a thousand pieces.  Two different realities that are appealing for very different reasons.

And you can’t have both.

The feeling it produces is indescribable.

For me that hell is that horrid place between mental illness and mental wellness. And most everyday I stare this hell in the face.

I know I have the potential within me to do good things.  I know I have it in me to succeed. I also know I have it in me to fall down into that black abyss of pain and suffering.

And I feel a sharp pull towards both.

At the same time.

This is my Hell.

And in those moments where I see the potential of both avenues, the flames of my hell are the strongest.

I do everything in my power to keep my Hell private.  And honestly, when I want to hide it, I can.  So my Hell is a secret hell, and I’m willing to bet that is how it is for a lot of people.

How do I get out of Hell?  Well, I don’t really know to be honest.  If I did, I would have left a long, long time ago.  But I can try.

And everyday I try to make the choice to step outside of my Hell.

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