Living Hell

July 16, 2013

Guest post by Deb Debbie

My twenty two year old son was hit by a car and killed on January 9, 2010. This is a pain that doesn’t go away and with Mother’s Day just passed I crave to see his smile, to hear his laugh. It will never be again. For the past three years, I’ve been digging deep inside for answers that are just not there. This is my journey into my soul and I’m growing stronger each and every day. It’s okay to break down as long as you always get back up.

My journey began when part of my heart was ripped out. I’ve always believed if you do good, don’t hurt anyone, don’t judge and do the best you can that good things will come. This I know now is not true. I still make sure I do right as right as can be, but now I know it really doesn’t matter. What is to come will come… either way.

These last three years I’ve been searching for answers, there just aren’t any. Here on earth that is. I look for signs, I tend to feel a presence of some sort, but this forever pain no one should ever have to deal with. I ask, why does GOD hate me so much??? What the hell did I do that pissed the Almighty off? Is there a God? I know church-goers believe but I am not sure anymore.

My inner journey is just that – mine. I can’t put in words the horror and the sorrow, because it’s something that is felt. Reality tends to blend with denial (which seems to work for me most days) it makes such an amazing color only my soul can see.

When I hear of another soul passing, it breaks my heart just a little more. Then the questions start all over again.


What is next?

Where do they go?

Is there something or a whole bunch of nothing after this life?

Is this really living?

Is this Hell?


I won’t stop searching for the answers. I was thrown into this quest and now will be my own hero and find what I need to sooth my soul.

In this shell of a body I call my home, it’s cold, numbness climbs ever so pushing any feelings away just to get through the day learned to walk outside of myself, just a few paces behind, watching, waiting…

It’s all about time.

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