What does hell actually look like and what is it like there?

Not too long ago, the Catholic Church suggested that hell isn't necessarily some
specific physical location, but rather a state of being—a condition of the soul where one experiences total separation from God, which is really just an isolation from love itself.
A disconnection from love, or simply, suffering.
At the time, that sounded like nothing more than an abstract concept to me.

That was before I began my slow descent into hell, becoming intimately acquainted with its sheer destructiveness.

I’ve been watching my peace and my very sense of purpose slip away day by day, sinking steadily through despair and eventually settling into a heavy, hollow indifference.

My capacity for empathy, that deep-seated compassion for others, and the genuine joy I used to feel in
helping people—it all started to wither away. That ability to lose myself in the beauty of the world, to actually feel the warmth of the Earth as the first rays of the morning sun touch the ground...
It’s all gone.

By facing nothing but selfishness while giving everything I had—clinging to the belief that love is the ultimate answer—I essentially burned myself out, destroying the best parts of my character. I found myself punishing my own soul every time I failed to communicate the overwhelming magnitude and beauty of the love I felt. It felt like I was painfully plucking my own feathers out, one by one.

Today, I feel like a void.
I’ve become a mere puppet of illusion, and with every passing day, the process becomes more agonizingly difficult: I am slowly forgetting how to love.
It’s as if five different poisons are coursing through my veins, tearing me apart from the inside.
I am powerless to stop loving her, so instead, I hate myself; I use my own longing as a way to sink deeper into
oblivion, even though I know my own ego and pride are clouding my vision. My envy fuels my arrogance, and I find I no longer have the desire to seek any kind of enlightenment.
I am trapped in a self-perpetuating cycle of suffering that offers no exit, a loop that only seems to expand.
I am fully aware of the futility of my actions, even when I consider the final end to this agony.
There is no way out; that is exactly what hell looks like.

It’s when the person you love tells you straight to your face that they don't want to see you, that they want you out of their sight, that they wish you would simply vanish from their thoughts—and it doesn't even hurt as much as it should because
you’ve grown indifferent over time. Or perhaps, the pain would be so unbearable that feeling it would be synonymous with no longer being alive at all.
That is the definition of hell.

It’s when she turns away and avoids your gaze, looking through you with a coldness that pretends you don't exist.
All you want is to hurt yourself.
When you reach the point of self-inflicted torment, that is hell.
There are countless ways to destroy oneself, but I am starting to realize that this might be one of the worst: systematically dismantling the best parts of who you are.

How do you explain to her that her behavior is cruel? How do you tell her that having compassion for a starving beggar in Africa means absolutely nothing if you are incapable of feeling the suffering of the person right next to you who loves you? It isn't enough to just perform emotions to manipulate people; you have to actually be able to feel the love and the pain of those around you—their struggles, their foolishness, their malice—and actually know how to help them. Otherwise, if someone truly loves you and is capable of feeling your essence, and you fail them, you are subjecting them to immense suffering, forcing them to live in a true and literal hell.

I can no longer look at a lush, green valley bathed in soft morning sunlight and dancing shadows.
I can no longer appreciate a sunrise on a deserted coastline, cool and refreshing after a long, sweltering summer day.
It doesn't take much effort to realize that such beauty is now unbearable to me.
So, I retreat into the nearest dark corner, trying to forget that I am even breathing.
I try to forget every shred of hope.

I drift into sleep, only to wake up in hell.

What’s with all the drama? I’m not even bleeding here... you're being so emo 😬

If you feel well enough to crawl out of bed, fire up your PC, and spend your time scrolling through garbage or typing out stupid posts... then fine. Whatever. You're doing just fine ☕

EDIT: How old are you anyway?? (My guess—you aren't even past 18)

Kid, you have no idea what hell actually looks like...

Yeah, you’re absolutely right about that.
It’s always been much easier to just spit on someone and kick them while they're already down on the ground.
You get that lovely little rush of superiority, and honestly, it doesn't cost you a dime.

-Yeah, it’s always easiest to kick someone while they're already down... just to make sure they really feel how much everything sucks.
-Honestly, who hasn't been there? You're lucky if you can even find a reason to get out of bed.
-And let's be real, most people don't appreciate what they have until it's gone or they've totally messed it up.
-For me, the mornings are the absolute worst. Just trying to crawl out of bed feels like pure agony... I can't tell if it's better to just write through it or sleep so I can disappear for a bit. The tears stopped coming a long time ago—just dried up and left me dehydrated years back.

nimbleviper142 said:What’s with all the drama? I’m not even bleeding here... you're being so emo 😬

If you feel well enough to crawl out of bed, fire up your PC, and spend your time scrolling through garbage or typing out stupid posts... then fine. Whatever. You're doing just fine ☕

EDIT: How old are you anyway?? (My guess—you aren't even past 18)

edit—what does age have to do with anything? are you just immature or just acting like a child?
-does it actually make you happy when someone's going through hell?
-do you feel some kind of weird sense of superiority?
-if my posts seem stupid or you just don't get them because they fly right over your head... nobody's forcing you to read them....

Donna Sullivan7 said:-Yeah, it’s always easiest to kick someone while they're already down... just to make sure they really feel how much everything sucks.
-Honestly, who hasn't been there? You're lucky if you can even find a reason to get out of bed.
-And let's be real, most people don't appreciate what they have until it's gone or they've totally messed it up.
-For me, the mornings are the absolute worst. Just trying to crawl out of bed feels like pure agony... I can't tell if it's better to just write through it or sleep so I can disappear for a bit. The tears stopped coming a long time ago—just dried up and left me dehydrated years back.

👍

I have always found it fascinating how you often receive the most profound empathy from the people you feel awkward complaining to, simply because you realize their own burdens might be even heavier. Meanwhile, everyone else tends to offer those dismissive remarks: "You don't have real problems," or "You're overreacting."

Eros, please keep writing... you truly have such a beautiful way with words.
I’ve been trying to recall my own exit from hell so I could offer you some kind of roadmap, but everything I think of ends up sounding like one of those hollow self-help books.
There comes a point where the pain itself transforms into something poetic. It happens when we finally move past the desperate wish to simply vanish and instead allow ourselves the possibility of existing despite the loss. When that happens, even a shattered illusion finds its own meaning, a small, warm place within us... and the colors start to return.
As for myself, I am still holding onto hope for the ability to love again... though it seems that is the last thing to arrive. 😁

Look, I’m not trying to drag you through the mud here—that’s not the point at all. The point is, when you're stuck in a mess, you need someone to give you a reality check and tell you to get your act together, not someone to sit there and nod along to your nonsense...
Maybe it sounds harsh or rude to you, but whatever... that's just life. It isn't easy for me either; I've been battling schizophrenia for over 20 years along with all the other crap that comes with it, but I'm not crazy enough to let it spiral me into a depression... now THAT is a shitty situation.
If you actually want help, go see a therapist and talk it out so you can get some objective perspective on what's going on with you. You'll feel better once you've talked to a pro... or if you don't want to do that, just talk to a friend, an acquaintance, or your parents. Trust me, it helps.🙂
Honestly, it’s easy to just whine and do nothing about it. Anyone can do that. It takes actual backbone to just say "screw this" and realize things could have been way worse.

@Zachary Patel6 Yeah, age definitely plays a role in all this, and you really ought to know that.
-And if you haven't figured it out by now, this is an online forum. I have the freedom to read and write whatever the hell I want, whether you like it or not.

@anteros—reading this feels like reading my own autobiography. I feel exactly the same way. You’re one of those people who doesn't waste words—it makes you a good read. But regardless, that sensation of sinking into hell, the emotional numbness, the total inability to find joy in the little things—I recognize it all. How to escape? I have no clue. I'm just living, waiting to see what time decides to throw at me; if I end up in hell, then I guess it was meant to be. I don't know any other way to live—maybe one day something new will come along. If not, then let it all go to hell. Because, frankly, there's nothing I can do with my own strength.
Every once in a while, I catch a tiny glimmer of hope that things might improve. That's the only thing keeping me upright.

But I honestly can't wrap my head around it—if God even exists, how could such a fate be allowed? I don't understand a God like that, and I have no desire to believe in Him. Then again, I realize who am I to judge destiny or play God—which, of course, is the ultimate sin. I just can't do this anymore...

nimbleviper142 said:Look, I’m not trying to drag you through the mud here—that’s not the point at all. The point is, when you're stuck in a mess, you need someone to give you a reality check and tell you to get your act together, not someone to sit there and nod along to your nonsense...
Maybe it sounds harsh or rude to you, but whatever... that's just life. It isn't easy for me either; I've been battling schizophrenia for over 20 years along with all the other crap that comes with it, but I'm not crazy enough to let it spiral me into a depression... now THAT is a shitty situation.
If you actually want help, go see a therapist and talk it out so you can get some objective perspective on what's going on with you. You'll feel better once you've talked to a pro... or if you don't want to do that, just talk to a friend, an acquaintance, or your parents. Trust me, it helps.🙂
Honestly, it’s easy to just whine and do nothing about it. Anyone can do that. It takes actual backbone to just say "screw this" and realize things could have been way worse.

@Zachary Patel6 Yeah, age definitely plays a role in all this, and you really ought to know that.
-And if you haven't figured it out by now, this is an online forum. I have the freedom to read and write whatever the hell I want, whether you like it or not.

So, we're having a conversation now.
Right?
It’s nice to see people finally realizing that even though I care about them, I am not a punching bag.

Zachary Patel6 said:@anteros—reading this feels like reading my own autobiography. I feel exactly the same way. You’re one of those people who doesn't waste words—it makes you a good read. But regardless, that sensation of sinking into hell, the emotional numbness, the total inability to find joy in the little things—I recognize it all. How to escape? I have no clue. I'm just living, waiting to see what time decides to throw at me; if I end up in hell, then I guess it was meant to be. I don't know any other way to live—maybe one day something new will come along. If not, then let it all go to hell. Because, frankly, there's nothing I can do with my own strength.
Every once in a while, I catch a tiny glimmer of hope that things might improve. That's the only thing keeping me upright.

But I honestly can't wrap my head around it—if God even exists, how could such a fate be allowed? I don't understand a God like that, and I have no desire to believe in Him. Then again, I realize who am I to judge destiny or play God—which, of course, is the ultimate sin. I just can't do this anymore...

I’m currently working my way through a book by the Buddhist teacher Richard.
He argues that we all share the exact same fundamental nature of mind and spirit, and that the various psychological disturbances we face don't actually touch that core essence. He suggests that if we can just become aware of this, we can master these struggles, heal ourselves, and finally find happiness.

To be honest, his descriptions of the mind feel eerily accurate to me.

There is a way out.

🙂Eros, this is a path out of Hell:

when does a person actually find happiness?
It happens when they can look out over rivers, mountains, and distant horizons with a profound awareness of their own insignificance within the vastness of all things, yet still manage to hold onto faith, hope, and courage—the very roots of virtue.

When they recognize what is etched into their own heart, realizing that every other person is just as noble as they are, and when they make the effort to understand, love, and forgive those around them.

When they learn how to truly empathize with people in their sorrow, their joy, and even their failures, knowing deep down that everyone is fighting a heavy battle against circumstances that almost always exceed their strength.

When they have mastered the art of making friends, and more importantly, how to actually keep them.

When they find beauty in a flower, learn to appreciate nature without needing to conquer it, and feel that sudden pang of nostalgia for an old, forgotten happiness.

When the sound of a child’s laughter or a melody from childhood strikes a chord.

When they can maintain their peace and dignity despite the cheap shots life keeps throwing at them.

When the canopy of trees or the way sunlight hits the water can move them, feeling like a glimpse of someone long gone and deeply loved.

When no cry for help goes unnoticed, and no hand reaching out for assistance finds him indifferent.

When he sees the good in every faith, regardless of its name, seeing how it helps a person reach toward the divine and grasp the grand meaning of existence.

When he can look into a roadside gutter and see something meaningful beyond the sin.

When he knows how to pray, how to love, and how to hope.

When he has remained true to himself, true to his people, and true to God, holding a sword against evil in one hand and a sliver of poetry in his heart—content to live, but not afraid to die.
That is the man who has uncovered the secret to happiness, and he's trying to pass it on to the rest of the world.

Joseph Fort Newton

it's all right there.
p.s. if you aren't religious, just ignore that part; the sentiment holds up regardless, and I find myself reading this every single day.

Kenneth Martin said:I’m currently working my way through a book by the Buddhist teacher Richard.
He argues that we all share the exact same fundamental nature of mind and spirit, and that the various psychological disturbances we face don't actually touch that core essence. He suggests that if we can just become aware of this, we can master these struggles, heal ourselves, and finally find happiness.

To be honest, his descriptions of the mind feel eerily accurate to me.

There is a way out.

Sure—but mastering it is pure agony. The path is a grind.

To me, they’ve always just been weaklings who can't handle the realities of life.
And honestly, thinking about Hell just because some girl or woman stopped loving you? That's peak stupidity. Total nonsense. 😂😂🤣🤣🤣
It reminds me of how people talk about young patients dealing with schizophrenia. They actually get out there, work hard, and fight through life. They don't just mope around the house like a bunch of wet cats. 😁

granitefalcon26 said:To me, they’ve always just been weaklings who can't handle the realities of life.
And honestly, thinking about Hell just because some girl or woman stopped loving you? That's peak stupidity. Total nonsense. 😂😂🤣🤣🤣
It reminds me of how people talk about young patients dealing with schizophrenia. They actually get out there, work hard, and fight through life. They don't just mope around the house like a bunch of wet cats. 😁

Look, I think you're phrasing that a little off, so let me set the record straight here. The real weaklings aren't the ones struggling to cope; they're the ones who refuse to even step up to the plate and face life head-on. You give people the roadmap, you show them what needs to be done, and if they still end up whining and taking the path of least resistance, well, that's on them. It's their own damn fault at that point.
Nobody ever promised anyone that life would be a walk in the park; if you want something, you've gotta grind for it. Nothing worth having is just handed to you on a silver platter.

Trust me, I've had my own moments where I felt completely leveled by reality—days where I looked at my own mindset and realized I was totally off base—but honestly, those hits just left me with an even more stubborn drive to go out there and fight for the things that actually matter to me.

Peter Phillips32 said:Look, I think you're phrasing that a little off, so let me set the record straight here. The real weaklings aren't the ones struggling to cope; they're the ones who refuse to even step up to the plate and face life head-on. You give people the roadmap, you show them what needs to be done, and if they still end up whining and taking the path of least resistance, well, that's on them. It's their own damn fault at that point.
Nobody ever promised anyone that life would be a walk in the park; if you want something, you've gotta grind for it. Nothing worth having is just handed to you on a silver platter.

Trust me, I've had my own moments where I felt completely leveled by reality—days where I looked at my own mindset and realized I was totally off base—but honestly, those hits just left me with an even more stubborn drive to go out there and fight for the things that actually matter to me.

Great post! 👍🙂

granitefalcon26 said:To me, they’ve always just been weaklings who can't handle the realities of life.
And honestly, thinking about Hell just because some girl or woman stopped loving you? That's peak stupidity. Total nonsense. 😂😂🤣🤣🤣
It reminds me of how people talk about young patients dealing with schizophrenia. They actually get out there, work hard, and fight through life. They don't just mope around the house like a bunch of wet cats. 😁

I'm definitely with you on this... I probably wouldn't be so aggressive about it, but you're right...
Anyway, I get the feeling the OP is still pretty young (didn't specify age), so I get that things feel heavy, but I really don't think this is some massive crisis that warrants jumping off a building, right, Eros? 😉
Maybe it feels like absolute Hell right now, like your life is over, but it's not. Not even close. And I'll stand by that—you just need someone to snap you out of it because you're actually fine, you're just stuck in a bit of a depression/apathy funk.
You gotta realize there are people out there going through way, way worse, fighting actual debilitating illnesses, and keeping that in mind might help... maybe not right away, but eventually...
Just stop and think for a second... imagine being someone who's seriously sick and has nobody to look out for them. Trust me, I'm not the type to pour my heart out for others and, frankly, I don't give a damn about most people's suffering, but whenever I feel helpless—like when I feel like ending it all because this damn sickness is eating me alive—I remind myself how much worse it could be. People are usually so ungrateful for what they have; they take their own lives for granted, which is terrifying...
Think about it... you've got parents who love you, maybe a few friends, and your health. That should be enough.
🙂

Peter Phillips32 said:Look, I think you're phrasing that a little off, so let me set the record straight here. The real weaklings aren't the ones struggling to cope; they're the ones who refuse to even step up to the plate and face life head-on. You give people the roadmap, you show them what needs to be done, and if they still end up whining and taking the path of least resistance, well, that's on them. It's their own damn fault at that point.
Nobody ever promised anyone that life would be a walk in the park; if you want something, you've gotta grind for it. Nothing worth having is just handed to you on a silver platter.

Trust me, I've had my own moments where I felt completely leveled by reality—days where I looked at my own mindset and realized I was totally off base—but honestly, those hits just left me with an even more stubborn drive to go out there and fight for the things that actually matter to me.

Yeah, truth. Most people, as soon as something goes sideways or they hit a tough choice, would rather just lock themselves in their room and sob for days about how they can't cope and how the whole world is out to get them... I've said it before, crying is the path of least resistance. But what kind of life is that? You end up living under a glass dome instead of just stepping up and grabbing control. There isn't some God coming to do your dirty work for you. You're born alone, you die alone, so you might as well figure things out on your own while you're here. There's no other way.
Anyway, we're totally drifting off-topic now...

Zachary Patel6 said:@anteros—reading this feels like reading my own autobiography. I feel exactly the same way. You’re one of those people who doesn't waste words—it makes you a good read. But regardless, that sensation of sinking into hell, the emotional numbness, the total inability to find joy in the little things—I recognize it all. How to escape? I have no clue. I'm just living, waiting to see what time decides to throw at me; if I end up in hell, then I guess it was meant to be. I don't know any other way to live—maybe one day something new will come along. If not, then let it all go to hell. Because, frankly, there's nothing I can do with my own strength.
Every once in a while, I catch a tiny glimmer of hope that things might improve. That's the only thing keeping me upright.

But I honestly can't wrap my head around it—if God even exists, how could such a fate be allowed? I don't understand a God like that, and I have no desire to believe in Him. Then again, I realize who am I to judge destiny or play God—which, of course, is the ultimate sin. I just can't do this anymore...

there is no such thing as God... o_O
sad times

I find myself wondering how people would actually react if he had phrased it this way: "I feel utterly depressed; I can't see the point in anything anymore. I am unable to connect with anyone, I can't seem to reach anyone emotionally, and I simply don't have the strength to keep going. I feel trapped, like I'm stuck in a loop with no exit. It feels like Hell."

Essentially, the sentiment remains identical, just without mentioning the unfortunate heartbreak that triggered this state.

(A question for the group: does the specific trigger tell us anything about the intensity or the permanence of the state someone is experiencing?)

It seems to me that the catalyst is entirely irrelevant. Ultimately, misery is something internal within a person that gets activated by an external force; what that specific force happens to be doesn't change the underlying reality.