Real Help
Friedrich Nietzsche said that if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss gazes back at you. I believe he was right — but he didn’t say what happens when the abyss starts whispering your name. My curiosity, my thirst for something real, dragged me one step closer to eternal darkness. Any sane man would’ve turned back by now. But I couldn't. I shouldn’t. I won’t pretend it’s noble. The truth is simpler — my own mind became too loud, too sharp, too overwhelming to ignore. So now, instead of fighting it, I’m walking to therapy like a good little patient. Dr. Adrian Kestrel. People say he graduated from Oxford, published papers on neuro-cognition and modern suicide ideation. Big words, soft hands. His reputation is clean — too clean, like a hospital sheet that’s been bleached to death. He looks like he was designed in a lab to be trustworthy. Mid-forties, lean, always freshly shaven. His jaw is sharp but never clenched, like he’s trained every muscle to look calm. His hair, salt-and-pep...