Contrary to the wide spread beliefs of heaven and hell as absolutes of goodness and all that is foul and bad, hells are prevalently personal states of mind, and are of our own design. We maintain them and keep the fires burning, keep the pokers pokey and the screams at maximum of decibels – because a known hell is better than an unknown heaven?

There is no such thing as an ultimate good or ultimate evil, it’s all nuanced, and there is also not one single action that makes you descend or climb (in this imaginary imagery of above and below). Hell is a definition of personal feelings of helplessness, of being trapped into your own mind and the devils and daemons are your own cohort, you’ve created them to process something but forgot to slay them when the process was done or just continued to pick the scab over and over again – because even pain is better than feeling nothing. You’ll not create your hell by one single decision, but by the continuous disregard of that which matters, by the continuous lack of discipline or effort, by choosing to not try over and over again, to just let yourself float, to take your hands of the wheel because you’re tired or lazy, because it is easier in the short term, because you’re afraid, drained, lost… Personal hell is a conglomerate of layers from an unexamined life. One bad day does not destroy a marriage, one bad decision does not make you a failure, one bad business move most likely isn’t fatal, one day when you have no time for the child won’t scar him… but multiply this willing negligence over a period of months and years, add some coping mechanisms – like drugs or alcohol, promiscuity, escaping into imaginary worlds – to dull the shame of knowing you’re not taking care of things the way your highest self could… and you have yourself a pit you willingly forced yourself into.

Hells can be undone, they can be crawled out of, most certainly you’ll first have to crawl before you’re even able to stand up and see further, but you’re by no means locked into them. There are doors marked “Exit” all around, but if you spend all your time crying you won’t be able to see them. Hells are not final judgements – they are the result of perpetually neglected beauty of life. Even if others had a hand in building it, you approved the final blueprint of what it looks like now. So whatever is going on at this moment, grieve what you need to, then get up, wipe your eyes, find that “Exit” and refuse to accept hell as your permanent address. Hells are not given, they are designed.