There was a time in my life where I didn’t know where I was. I wasn’t independent, I wasn’t cerebral, I was adrift in a land of disappointment and failure. Then came a time where I collapsed inwards and felt like I had lost everything.
It took tremendous suffering. It took pain, agony and isolation. My home was my fortress of steel, my office door was my castle walls. I spent my time learning, studying, thinking freely and openly about the world around me.
And this went on until one day I stopped caring. I slowly vanished from peoples mind, something left forgotten in the back of a drawer. And then I stopped existing nay for those fleeting flashes of me in-between blinks. Was I alive or was I dead? Was I SchrÃ¶dinger’s cat?
The pain wouldn’t go away. It was always there, hiding in the dark. Concealed. Forgotten. Suffering. Had I done so wrong in some other life that this was my banishment, to become an illusion?
Then one day I was in my mind, and I saw that the walls that surrounded me were glass, and there was a door that I could walk out of. On that door was a posted letter that noted that exiting through the door would end the pain. What would it hurt to see what’s on the other side of the door. Would I be happy? Less unhappy? I felt myself reaching out for the door…
And it was at that point I realized that these questions were but a thought as the light faded away and the darkness came for me again.