HELL on Earth EXISTS, but HELL as a place, simply CAN NOT.

                            

Using simple logic I proved to myself, that a location called hell, simply cannot exist. This freed me from fear. But the evidence for hell on earth is overwhelming. 

I was born into a catholic family, went to a catholic school, and attended a catholic church. Thus, from a very young age, I was taught about Heaven & Hell. 

I realize now that, for most of my life, I had lived my life in fear. And as I go older that fear increased. It increased because as you get older you gradually realize that you have less years ahead than you do behind. Fear that, when I die there was a high probability that I would go to Hell. And if that happened, I would suffer terrible, unimaginable pain, and for eternity. 

Three years ago I became seriously and mysteriously ill. This illness caused terrible pain over my entire body. Day after day the pain gradually became worse. Eventually it became so intense I was literally screaming in agony. On Christmas Eve, 2014, I was flown by emergency helicopter to local hospital. Such were the severity of my symptoms that I was first suspected as having contracted the Ebola virus. 

During that time, a nurse who had been working in Sierra Leone, had contracted the Ebola virus. She had been flown to Oslo, and given the last of experimental serum. After that, the whole of Norway had been put on  high alert. 

October 2014. The first Norwegian Ebola patient arrives at Oslo University Hospital

While I was being flown through the air at high speed, lying on my back with an oxygen mask on my face, I could see an electronic machine in front of me showing all that was happening in my body. My heart beat was reading 189bpm and alarms were sounding. It was clear that the paramedic was somewhat concerned. The pain in my body was like nothing I had ever experienced and I became convinced that very soon my time on earth would be over.

At that point a calmness came over me. I began to accept that death was imminent. I did not pray but instead I began to have a conversation. A conversation with God. I say a conversation but actually it was more asking a question. And that question was. "All I ask is if it was possible for my mother to be the first to greet me on the other side?" 

Suddenly I felt no sensation of fear. Death did not feel like the end of existence but more like I was heading for another part of a journey. And the place I was heading did not feel as though it was all that bad. It really did feel like that. The sensation was so real that I began to welcome death and even looked forward to it. I began to be filled with expectation at the coming joy of seeing my mother again. But I also felt a sadness that I would not be able to say "goodbye" to those I was leaving behind. Particularly my daughter. But there was nothing I could do about that now. The paramedic suddenly leaned over me and asked "Are you OK?". And the reason why he asked was because my heart rate had suddenly plummeted to almost normal levels.

Norwegian helicopter ambulance.

Once in hospital I was rushed to emergency and wired up to another monitor machine. I heard the paramedic telling the doctor of how my heart rate had altered so dramatically so I know this must have had of some medical significance. 

The pain continued but I was no longer screaming. By now they had already discarded Ebola and had come to the conclusion that is was probably a form of cancer. Lung cancer was their first gut feeling ans so I was rushed for a chest -ray.  A relative of mine had died from this a few years back and I remembered how awful a way to die it was. Now I began to have fear again. Not of dying, but of dying slowly in pain. The X-ray turned out to be clear.

A doctor shoved a line into my vein and attached it to some plastic bottle containing a clear liquid. To this day I still do not know what that liquid was but I do know that the pain began to lesson, a little at least. Although my symptoms were still not good, I was classed as "stable" and so taken to a room and kept "under observation".

I was in that hospital for no more than one week. Anyone who has suffered severe pain knows that one hour feels as long as a day, or even longer. During that week I had every test you can have. Over 50 blood tests, several X-rays, an Endoscopy, a Colonoscopy, a Spinal tap, and two Mri scans. They found nothing. And yet I was still in pain. I would suddenly have attacks of severe pain that seemed to come from out of no where and I would begin screaming at the top of my voice. I was located on the top floor of the hospital but it was later said that I could be heard in the basement. Joking aside, it was not pleasant at all. The doctors knew the pain was real because the machine I was hooked up to was telling them it was real. Hear rate, blood pressure and so on.

                                                         

I was assigned a specialist to my case who was convinced that I had contracted an unknown virus. He explained that we, (people) are surrounded by thousands of unknown viruses everyday but it is only when we find one and identify it, that we then give it a name and can find ways of defeating it. He told that generally they do not publicize this fact so as not to panic the public. He went on to explain that 99 times out of a 100 our immune system simply kills these unknown viruses before they do any damage. His theory was that my immune system had become very low, (high periods of stress can to this) and so virus had got past the initial immune defense system. Rather like a digital virus breaking through a Firewall. And once it is inside the body it becomes a 100 times more difficult to defeat. Thus prevention is always better than cure.

                                         Close up of a typical virus

 The final diagnosis was "Post Viral/ post pathogenic bacterial, Syndrome". Basically the theory was that my immune system had defeated this "unknown virus or bacteria", and now it had to deal with the overwhelming amount of poison left in the body.  Apparently, when antibodies destroy a virus or a pathogenic bacteria, they release poison. It is this poison that causes the pain. The poison can also do great damage to internal organs, including the brain. 

So you see, it is not the virus itself that kills, it is the poison that they release when they die. If the immune system kills all the virus/bacteria in one go, then the amount of poison released is simply too much for the body to cope with all at once and so it shuts down. And you die an in severe pain. Therefore if the immune system could kill the virus/bacteria little by little then the damage and the pain would be much less. You would be ill longer but you would recover better. Unfortunately the immune system does not work that way.

The MRi had shown that I had suffered huge nerve damage and this was also probably the main cause of pain. Anyway, I was sent home on New Years Eve 2014. I was still in severe pain and told that I simply had to live with it and hope it would diminish gradually. Great, thanks.

To cut a long story short it took about 6 months for the pain to finally disappear. It had been a long painful path to recovery and I am convinced it was made quicker due to me taking up a high detox diet. With my blood full of poison, I figured I would help my body wash it out.

Hell on earth is real. For three months I could hardly sleep at all from the constant severe pain. Minute after minute, hour after hour, day after day. PAIN. You can´t watch TV, you can´t listen to music, you can´t bare to be around people. All you think about is PAIN. Nothing else. I began to think that suicide was possibly the only way to escape this awful pain. It was just relentless. 

      

The catholic faith had told me that suicide was a guaranteed path to hell. And so in some way the fear of this stopped me. I now knew what real pain felt like and the idea of suffering in this way for eternity was incomprehensible. 

I began to question my own faith. For the first time in my life I began to use my logical mind to question if the idea of hell was viable. The conclusion I came to was that, "Hell" as a place, simply can not exist. Here is why I think so:

My mother died when I was only seven years old. As a devout catholic she prayed twice a day and went to church every Sunday. By anyone´s standards, she was a model christian as well as devoted mother and as such, I have never doubted that she had gone straight to heaven. I have missed her all my life but I comforted myself with the hope that, when I die, I would see her again. 

While I was lying there in bed, coping with the pain, I imagined that I had killed myself and had been sent to Hell. What now? Once there I began to ask if it was feasible that my mother could possibly allow her son to be there? I mean, she was my mother, she was in heaven, and now she knew her son was in hell. 

         

This mind experiment made me realize that my mother could no longer live, or exist "happily" in heaven. Could any parent?  What if it was my own daughter who had been sent to hell, and it was I who was in heaven? In such a scenario I would do everything possible to get her out of there. I would plead with God, or whoever was in charge - "Please forgive my daughter".  "Let me go to Hell in her place". Whatever the case, it would be impossible for me to remain in heaven while I knew my daughter was suffering in Hell for eternity. In the end I would end up saying: "Send me to Hell so at least I can be with her". Anyone who has children will understand this. 

It is actually not possible for any decent person to live happily in heaven knowing that people are suffering for eternity in a place called Hell. For if that were true, it would mean that every person in heaven had no empathy, no conscience and were totally selfish. Such traits are used to describe psychopaths, not that of a loving forgiving "christian" God.  Finally I came to the question that lead to the final conclusion. "If I can forgive my daughter, why can´t God"

                       

If anyone says to me that, we ourselves choose to go to hell, suggesting that God cannot do anything about it, I say bollocks to that too. For whom would choose an eternity of pain and why would a loving merciful creator allow a place of torture to exist? If mere human beings can forgive and God cannot, then that would make human beings greater than God. For the creator to be the God of Christianity, or even an almighty creator of everything, this creator has to love and forgive everyone. Even Hitler. I do not say that there are no consequences to our actions, that is a different question altogether. But when you realize this, the entire concept of Hell simply falls apart. 

Whether or not heaven exists I have not as yet speculated, but I am at least certain within myself, that Hell does not. And thus a great burden of fear has gone. But the experience in that helicopter, the pleasant sensation of moving onto another life journey, strongly remains. 

The painting at the beginning is my own and is called "Spiritual swimming"