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I opened my eyes to complete darkness. I know what it’s like to walk from the bedroom to the bathroom in the middle of the night; I get up and it’s pitch black, but then my eyes adjust and I see the moon shining in from outside, or the nightlight from the other room giving off a dim light under the door.  I’ve been camping in the woods when the night is cloudy and it is almost impossible to see, but always, always, my eyes have adjusted so I can see shadows. Here, there is nothing, no shadow, no dim light, I can’t even see my hand in front of my face.  I don’t even know how close my hand is to my face before it touches.  I have no associative cognition. I can’t begin to think of where I am or what is around me; my hand reaches out, but there is nothing. I can’t walk to find anything. I try to move my legs, but it seems like I am in mud. 

My legs ache, my arms ache, my eyes are on fire even though I can’t see. I am in utter terror, but I don’t know why.  I feel stinging and burning all over. It is overwhelming and I can’t see or discern where the pain is coming from. It feel like I am being bitten by a million fire ants. I recall walking on a fire ant hill years ago, while working in my garden, the slight hint of a bite, followed by pain, itching, and burning shortly after. The irritation, itching, and burning would last for days. This was similar but exceedingly worse. I can’t scratch anywhere because I can’t tell where it’s coming from. The pain is excruciating. I’m terrified, I reach out again, to nothing.

I realize I can’t hear anything either. This isn’t just not-hearing, this is overwhelming, deafening silence. It is similar to when I’ve had noise-blocking headphones on, but so much worse. When I wore those in the past, they served a purpose; I needed to study or concentrate on a business project. This is not the same; this is menacing. This is unlike anything I could have ever imagined. This is lonely. So, so lonely. There is nothing but darkness, silence, and pain. Extreme pain and terror. I can’t explain it, but I feel evil all around me, I feel like someone is poking me, prodding me, surrounding me on all sides, but I can’t see or discern who or what it is. I almost feel hot, putrid breath breathing down on me.  Oh, god, help me.

And there it is. God. I remember that my friends and family tried to talk to me about “god”. Their god, they thought was real and good. How many times did I scoff? They tried to tell me about Jesus, but I brushed them off. I didn’t want to hear it, even though I knew deep down that they were probably on to something.  I could see the difference in their lives over mine. I resisted. I hated. I denied. I did not want to admit that I was in the wrong, so I made fun of them. I looked down on them and looked at myself as superior because I was intellectually smarter than them.  My pride was so strong; I felt so superior to many people. I wasn’t overly happy, but I had my home that I worked so hard for. I had a great bank account and portfolio. My job was envied by so many because I worked hard for my success. I traveled and didn’t spare expense. I thought church was for weak people or cultish people. I didn’t need anyone, I was self-sufficient. I couldn’t understand how those “church” people who had less money and less education than me were always laughing and smiling. There had to be something wrong.

Jesus. I recall that name being spoken to me. I remember being told that he was the way to eternal life, but I scoffed.  I laughed. I shook my head. Oh God, please take me out of here. I know I should have listened. I know I was wrong. I know that Jesus is the way to eternal life and my way was eternal death. Is there any chance?  Silence. I knew when I called out, there would be silence, except for my endless groans and screams of pain that don’t go anywhere. Why was I so stubborn, resisting the fact that there was God, the creator? If only I could go back, if only I could warn my family and friends. If only. My life was gone too soon. I worked so hard, ate and drank what I wanted and didn’t take care of my body. I didn’t think about it until my chest started hurting.  I guess I thought there was more time. I had considered what my friends told me about salvation, but I always thought I would wait until I was old. I wanted to experience life the way I wanted to experience it. I used to joke about hell having all the people I know in it. I was wrong. I am in hell and there is nothing but darkness. Darkness doesn’t explain it. It is the total lack of light. There is so much fear and pain here.  Oh, the pain I am in, the loneliness, the terror, the utter void. If I could send a letter, I would. Maybe, somehow, my message can get to those that need it. But how?