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Over the past several weeks I have become very acutely, increasingly convinced, and afraid, that hell is real and that every day I am on the verge of making a decision that will irreversibly precipitate me right into its annihilation. I’m just not cut out for this, I think. All this. I still struggle to justify it intellectually but something’s changed on the level of my soul, I think, that I cannot comprehend but whose shadow is palpable and undeniable. I feel like I am constantly on the verge of breaking. Less than zero. Nearly every interaction feels like an agitation, a pretext to judgement. It is no longer the atrocity within me that I fear others will sense but the inadequacy. Like my father said. Useless eater. Hell is real, I am certain of it. There are moments when I feel like I am burning from the inside. Like God has cast his eye upon me directly. But I am not being cleansed. There is no purification and what is burning away is just me.