Suicidal in Heaven – A Journey of Choices

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I had to choose, heaven or hell (purgatory wasn’t an option, I was positive I didn’t have to “wash away” my sins. Besides eternity in the middle of nowhere seemed least seductive than forged perfection or tortures). Heaven or tortures? Angels or demons? Hot or cold? It seems obvious, but I can’t think in such simplistic terms. I can’t decide how to spend the rest of eternity based only in three questions. I have to measure, think, think, question, rationalize every possible and imaginable aspect. No, not just that, I need to go even further. I have to analyze like never before. Only then I can really choose, ’cause if I don’t do that, one day I may come to the conclusion that I made a rushed decision and I’ll regret it. Not that if I do all of that I won’t regret it at some point, but it’ll be a temporary regret, ’cause I’ll always remember I did everything I could to make a decision.

I wished I explored more the environments. I wished I knew more. I don’t know how’s Michael’s and Raphael’s areas in heaven, or how it would be to live in some Circles of hell. All I’d seen was superficial, I wasn’t able to go deeper, wasn’t able to actually know what heaven and hell can offer me. I wish I could go back, look carefully to the details. But that’s impossible, I need to choose based on what I know… But both are what I know, so I think it wouldn’t matter much how much time would pass in both places. They are projections of my mind, the details there are to see are details that deep down I already know. Pure and simply ’cause I created them. Heaven and hell are joint creations between me and God. And that makes a lot of sense, ’cause me and Him were always one. He is my soul, even if I had never (or close to that) believed he existed. I should have been less agnostic while I was alive, at least I’d feel less stupid. The funny thing is that being agnostic made much more sense with what I was, I always thought I was someone balanced, who made judgements based on facts. And there were never facts showing God didn’t exist, although the opposite is also (or was, in this case) true. Atheist is a person who closes himself too much… But, thinking like this, I should be atheist. After all, I spent my life closing myself…

What am I thinking? I’m digressing. Now, little matters what I was, or what I’m not anymore. Little matters if I feel stupid or if I regret the decisions I made in life. All I have to do is to choose between heaven and hell. But how can I choose between two such antagonistic choices, that are so equal? Both have advantages and disadvantages. Extremely advantageous advantages, that make me tend to choose a place when I remember what it offers. But such disadvantageous disadvantages that make me question how I could even think about choosing such a place. Why does it have to be like that? Why couldn’t hell simply be and infernal place? And why couldn’t heaven simply be a paradise? Why do you have to be grey instead of black and white? Why?

Because they are projections of my mind, and I was never able to be someone optimistic enough to see just one side of something, nor pessimistic enough to see just the bad. Although I believe I’m much more inclined to the second group. Seeing advantages was always rare in my life, while seeing disadvantages was extremely common. Why had I been like this? And why didn’t I ask that to God? Is it because, deep down, I knew I’ll never have that answer? Is it because we’re supposed to understand everything, except ourselves? Again, I digress, but it doesn’t matter. Actually, it does, but not now. I’ll have all eternity to question this kind of thing, and I’ll have eternity to get to some sort of answer. But I won’t have eternity to choose where I’m going to. Or do I? If I don’t choose, will I be here forever? It wouldn’t be such a bad deal, spending the rest of eternity in my room. It would just be a direct continuity of my life. Maybe it’s not the choice that pleases me the most, but it also wouldn’t be the choice that displeases me the most. Deep down, that’s what matters, right? Choosing a place I think I’ll suffer less. Who am I kidding? I can’t not choose, at some point I’ll be forced to answer and if I don’t have the answer, they’ll choose for me. That would be catastrophic. Spending eternity in a place I didn’t choose… If I should suffer, let it be the way I wanted, not what others chose.

Heaven or hell? Which are the advantages of each one?

Heaven: Cold, happiness, perfection, food, angels.

Hell: Her, sex, happiness, concerts, alcohol, movies, famous people.

And the disadvantages?

Heaven: there are no discussions, “brain wash”, false, constructed happiness, a kingdom and an archangel that hate what I represent, sex only after marriage and eternally with the same person (I never thought about getting married, so, it sounds like a disadvantage).

Hell: Heat, demons, tortures, circles, Lucifer (I think he holds some grudge against me and that can’t be good), food, heat.

Is that all I know about them? How much time did I spend in those places? It seems so much, but it must have been so little. Only in so little time it’s possible to gather so little information. If I’d spent the time I thought I did, I’d be capable of making a complete x-ray of the two places. So, that’s a disadvantage they have in common, lack of time notion. Maybe someday I’ll get used to it. But, if that doesn’t happen (which is not an absurd thought), I can go crazy imagining how much time has gone by and how long does it take to the end of time. Why can’t we just die? Why is life so sacred that it has to continue even after death? Isn’t living once enough? Why are we forced to go through this torture twice? I hate having to choose, specially when the choice is so complex and definitive. The last time I went through something of the kind was when I had to choose my major. There wasn’t a breath of the same level of responsibility, even so, I felt it and made a wrong choice. Not knowing how to guess also doesn’t help at all. How can I make such decision? I’m too young. Too inexperienced. I barely lived everything I could have lived. I’ve barely lived all I could compared with people my own age, or even younger (sometimes, much younger) than me. And whose fault is it? Why haven’t I ever lived? Why there were no opportunities, why didn’t anyone ever gave that to me or why did I choose to be the way I am?

I can’t complain. I made my choices. I may not have chosen to be depressive, but I chose not to do anything. I could have talked to my parents, they wouldn’t judge me. They would have done anything to help me. They would talk to doctors, they would buy medicines (if it was necessary). But I preferred to pretend that everything was ok, I preferred to hide who I was. And the result was a life of pretend, a life that actually never existed. A life without memories, a life without happiness. A life pure and simply wasted. Also, I’m only here through fault of my own. I didn’t only avoid calling for help, but I also gave up fighting. I chose the easiest way. Back then, it seemed right, back then, it seemed the only thing to do. And when I killed myself, when I cut my wrists in the tub, I didn’t think about all of that. I didn’t stop to think, much less considered my experience. Maybe, if I’d done what I’m doing now, none of this would’ve happened, and I wouldn’t be going through this. I wouldn’t have to be making a choice that would rule my life through all eternity. But I did, and now I’m lost. Looking to the two choices that are equal. Two seductive choices that cause me disgust. God, being omnipotent, could correct what I’ve done… But it doesn’t make much difference to think about it, I’ve done what I’ve done. Nothing’s going to change, I have to focus on the present and leave the past behind.

But maybe I shouldn’t leave the past behind, maybe the answer resides there. I’m alive, sort of. Which means that, somehow, I got a second chance. Maybe I can use this chance to redeem myself. And how can I do that? Using my imagination and trying to guess where parents and friends go. Eternity would be much better and easier by their side… But, on second thought, that wouldn’t work. Maybe with my parents, but not with my friends. My friends have their whole lives ahead of them, and even in the little time that we stop seeing each other regularly, the abyss between us has begun to form and get bigger. They will all live, make new friendships, meet new people, raise a family. In the end, when they have to choose, I’ll be just an almost erased memory (I just don’t say I’ll be completely forgotten ’cause it’s difficult to erase the memory of a fired who took his own life). I won’t matter in the equation, and even if I make the correct choice, even if I guess where they’ll go, when I meet them, they will be completely different people from when they were alive. It won’t be the same. Only my parents will want to stay by my side through eternity, but it would be kind of pathetic having just the parents as friends through eternity, I can’t choose that.

So, what should I choose? Is there any definitive argument? Is there a reason? I’m not sure how long I’ve been thinking like this, and didn’t come to any conclusion. I’m certain I’m further away from the answer now than I was in the beginning. So maybe I’m using the wrong methodology. I’m using too much logical thinking, almost scientific, dare I say. But what I’m choosing has nothing to do with logic and science. I’m deciding something way beyond that, I’m deciding to go to impossible places. And there’s no space left to logic in the impossible, there’s just space for what goes beyond it. And what goes beyond it? The feeling. Maybe I should make the choice without thinking about it, maybe I should leave the advantages and disadvantages aside, maybe I’ll just get an answer by feeling it, and not trying to reach it. I have to put everything I know aside, and choose based on what I felt in heaven and hell. I must be true to myself, maybe for the first time in my life. The choice is mine, and only I can make it. And the only way of answering it is being myself, and being myself means being my feelings.

I throw myself in my bed, and look to the ice ceiling. The lights are on, and it blinds my vision. It’s a good thing, it’s symbolic to what I need to do. I need to cloud what I see to be able to see with clarity. I need to stop thinking, I need to give in.

I don’t know how much time I’m in this state, enough for the white light to hurt my eyes. They feel watery, I’m not sure if it’s because the time they have been opened, by the excess of light that’s coming in or if I’m crying. It doesn’t matter, ’cause if it did, I’d be thinking and right now all I cannot do is to think. The light shows me hell, shows me myself in hell. I see again everything I’ve done, but now from a different perspective. I don’t see myself, I see just my feelings (which is more me than I could ever be). After hell, I see myself in heaven, the vision it’s still the same. I want to highlight my feelings. I’m finally ready to make a choice. I get up from my bed, turn on the monitor and see that the computer is on and the text editor is open. I begin to type and at the end of my text I make my choice.

I choose…

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