This story is true. Below you will find a letter I wrote to a man who I believe killed himself. The letter I wrote was returned to me in the mail.
I have letters I've written to people which never made it to them. There are many reasons my letters never made it to a person. I find these strange fragments of my life all over my current room. I am back in the place where I grew up, and all my stuff is in one room again. This is miraculous since i have lived all over including Cali, Tokyo, Arizona, Kansas.
The letter I have typed up was written in the Japanese year of Heisei 11, February 16, which is the year 1999. These are all my original drawings as well. I usually drew pictures in the letters i sent people. I used to be decent at writing in Japanese, now, not so much. I lived in Japan and also got a degree in Japanese Literature and Language.
I was 29 years old and found myself in a severe low point, back living with my parents after I had a severe dark period. I somehow became penfriends with a Japanese man named NAO. I think we met on some forum or something (this was way before Facebook). Anyway, I used to write a lot of letters to people. Writing was escape from my mind which was tortured a lot.
I wrote this letter to Nao, but it was returned to me in the mail. I knew i had his address correct, and I also knew that Nao was suicidal. We had been writing back and forth for several months before this letter was sent back. I tried to find out if he killed himself, and that was why my letter was returned to me. But I never found out the truth. I think his parents wrote something on the outside of the letter. Or maybe they thought i was crazy. My gut instinct told me that he killed himself.
Here's the letter I wrote to him which i found recently in my room:
Much of it is written in Japanese, and you can see the first page which is fully of drippy sentimentality:
Here's the part where it gets interesting, starting on the second page:
"We have a task before us which must be speedily performed.
We know that it will be ruinous to make delay. The most important crisis our our life calls, trumpet-tongued, for immediate energy and action. We glow, we are consumed with eagerness to commence the work, with the anticipation of whose glorious result our whole souls are on fire. It must, it shall be undertaken today, and yet we put it off until tomorrow; and why? There is no answer, except that we feel perverse, using the word with no comprehension of the principle. Tomorrow arrives, and with it a more important anxiety to do our duty, but with this very increase of anxiety arrives, also, a nameless, a positively fearful, because unfathomable, craving for delay.
This craving gathers strength as the moments fly.
The last hour for action is at hand. We tremble with the violence of the conflict within us, of the definite with the indefinite, of the substance with the shadow. But, if the contest have proceeded thus far, it is the shadow which prevails, we struggle in vain. The clock strikes, and is the knell of our welfare. At the same time, it is the chanticleer-note to the ghost that has so long overawed us. It flies, disappears, we are free. The old energy returns, We will labor now. ALAS, IT IS TOO LATE.!"
-Edgar Allan Poe, The Imp of the Perverse
Then my letter to NAO starts here:
This quote expresses perfectly, more perfectly than I could write, the present condition which I find myself in.
At last I feel that I have found words in Poe's stories which express sensations that I have felt, but have been unable to articulate. I'm reveling in his strange vocabulary, mixing wonderful words like divine, supreme, fantastic with words like terror, gloom, dizziness, so that the combination, ie, 'fantastic gloom', 'excessive terror', 'supreme despair', is like a long lost language that I found and understand intimately.
Because the despair, desperation, gloom and terror does have depth, an almost royal quality, as if it were surrounded by the finest jewels, I know sometimes I enjoy suffering in my life. Making things complicated, for some unknown reason, seems to be the path most likely to follow. Adoring from afar is pleasing, a bit painful, but in the end, most satisfying and never allows for me to become complacent, full.
My hunger grows daily, but the dull pains sometimes attack with such ferocity that I feel incapabable of even lifting a finger. Constant montoring has made it clear that I am a beast of two natures: impetuous and risk-taking and lifeless and dragged down by unknown terrorizing forces.
And unfortunately, the last few days have been lost, totally lost to the terrorizing forces that lurk beneath my placid exterior. Nightmares have attacked me in details that would make most people sick. The visual images pop up during the day, with such intensity that simply ignoring them is not an option.
Nightmares are the least of my problems, however, the mental apathy, the slow suckers of dull terror are the true enemies. Night visions uncover their terror blankets and hold my eyes wide open, hold me hostage to my peaceful sleep and force down a fear-laden drink, one that induces horror sights, grotesqueries of all imaginable shapes and sizes. They are shown to me over and over. There's no bed in which the visions find rest. They loom on the horizon of terror and spring up when their fancy strikes.
Finding this letter shows me that little has changed. I am still of two beasts. I still don't know which one will win.
Cheers,
Stellabelle
Founder of Slothicorn
"I belong to everyone and no one"
Wow this is a wonderful piece ...literally help my tears back. So touching
These were the same words used by our president when he was newly elected ,to let the cabals who put him in power know that he was a man of his own and belonged to know one and at the same time belonged to everybody . These where his exact words
weird. the idea of a collective belonging to everyone and no one is an exciting idea to me.....not surprised others have embraced this concept.
Wow...interesting on here
Though i find it difficult to understand stuffs written..
It is very moving to read this letter
I love the style with which you wrote this letter ... and especially the drawing which is very expressive.
thanks for sharing @stellabelle
It's a very strange story, May God be with you.
I couldn't help the tears while reading this story. My hand is still shaking as I'm even typing.
Just keep doing good. The Lord will help you
Nice to see your post.realy nice job.
Really like this post.thanks a lot for sharing a beautiful story.it will be liked to all.beacuse it will be realize.keep sharing.thank you.go ahead
This is very sad. Suicide is never an option 😢😢😢
This is a profoundly moving meditation on grief, written with rare sensitivity and the kind of prose that nearly stops your heart with moments of quiet, anguished beauty.
nice your post i will done upvote
Nice story..
It'd better be fictional
educative post.......sourcefull too......creative mind...@stellabelle
Story behind the story.......very heart touching....thanks for sharing @stellabelle
You are not the only one that is of two beasts, everyone is.. Except that they may not refer them as beasts.. It's what makes us human, it's what makes life life interesting and individually unique. But in all things, we hope that our good sides win.
still thinking of what to type.......! Let me say this was full of sad story.
what captivate my mind was the type of writing type. I love seeing people having a unique was of doing this. Hmm, his letter is always attach with a drawing. What a wonderful way of doing things.
this made me to remember Michael in the movie prison break, his style of encoding message was too good. A born genius,thanks for sharing it.
besides, writing in journals every morning, with no purpose other than releasing those demons in pages that are never read, for me it also works to invent self loving rituals, like burning scented candles and drawing mandalas, or classical music and sketches without lifting my pencil from paper and following the music, or whatever idea I get that reminds me I love art, life and my messy mind.
You are deep Stellabelle!
I read your words and I try to immerse myself into the feeling that oozes from them and I feel a sadness that I am familiar with. Not so dark yet familiar.
I hope you found closure since Nao 's death.
Most times, certainty is not a luxury man can afford, you live your life and whichever beast emerges victorious does so.
I hope the one that is good.
♥
I don't understand 😔 😔, hope you r OK, please be OK.
I love so much the art style, I hope you have time to do more :) and about your friend "protect your energy" and don't think about worst case scenarios, you made it through the worst part of your life, I made it too, maybe he also made it ...
I am telling myself, " this is not true" because it is what I call cold experience. I am always weary of death issues and I feel confused every time anxiety and other mystery stuffs make you think about life from different views.
I don't even think I am coherent enough and its because your thoughts as written and experienced hit close to my heart.
Yes good @stellabelle
That's a chilling message to receive back from the dead, and full of thoughts and emotions that would have been lost to you forever if they had been received.
I often miss the freedom of expression possible with letters (and love notes passed in school hallways). Especially on unlined paper, where there need be no boundaries between words and illustration.
The best always will win. It is interesting that your life is like an adventure filled with varieties of events. I have often heard that most writers have vast experiences which when coupled with some imagination creates a bestseller. It seems to bring out the best in the natural given talent that made them survive whatever horrors fate had lined up for them. My dad was always fascinated with Edgar Alan Poe and W. Somerset Maugham; it was just of late that I find what made these men fascinating.
The Japenese part of your experience is a new one that I just got to read. Thank you for sharing.
Which one will win? The one you feed.
I emphasize with this one. In some of the depression support group that I am in we were assigned a partner who would share our darkness.
The Philippines is one of those countries that mental issues like depression are not taken seriously by the public.
We ar left to understand and care for our own kind. The hardest thing to do is to wait patiently on the other line as you call your partner and they don't pick up.
You hurry to their house always expecting the worse. Some of the others don't make it. The demons in their head eventually win making harder on those that resolve to live on.
Steemit has been wonderful with keeping me busy with community building with @ ankarlie with @steemitfamilyph and also with scouting for @promo-mentors.
It is not the long term solution but what's important is I am here now. I am not okay but hopefully I will be.
Wow! You are a great writer. The post is classic and touchy, I admire your choice and use of words; and your multilingual.
You write: "Night visions uncover their terror blankets and hold my eyes wide open, hold me hostage to my peaceful sleep and force down a fear-laden drink, one that induces horror sights, grotesqueries of all imaginable shapes and sizes. They are shown to me over and over. There's no bed in which the visions find rest. They loom on the horizon of terror and spring up when their fancy strikes."
This is so meaningful and powerful to me. Due to my CPTSD, I experience this frequently. Less now that before, but there was a point where I was afraid my mind would take over and I would do some of those things I saw in my grotesque visions. That I would hurt myself or someone I love, or worse, mutilate or kill myself or them. I had a lot of these when feeling rage or feelings of punishment, because of the narcissist who abused me using blood and gore from films to get me into a specific state.
You describe those thoughts and visions perfectly and poetically. I still get them sometimes when I experience rage and feelings of punishment attached to an emotional flashback, but they no longer have the hold on me that they once had.
The nightmares were not suppressed, they were not put to bed, but they were replaced by dreams of visions of cuteness and love. Love is more powerful than fear, even if they are both the most primal and primary emotions. Love is replacing fear and is healing all the places where fear crept in.
Hmmn.... I'm afraid to say this has spoiled my night, it's a sad story, and unfortunately it's real...
Nothing trumps being connected to someone deeply and after leaning on them for comfort only to never be heard of again and more so, not knowing what happened to them with imaginations running wild. I can relate with that.
Maybe he pulled through, maybe he changed location, maybe he felt hurt, maybe he lost touch and he is searching for you too. Maybe he thinks of you as you of him, maybe he gave up just to be at peace and have rest. Whatever it is @stellabelle, hold on to those sweet memories he gave you and focus on that for now. I am sure you always pull through and this wouldn't be any different. I pulled through losing dad, mum and sister at different stages, so can you. Let your good works be in memory of him and you will always have that piece of him with you for ever. Stay strong.
P.S: You should draw more! You are good sweet lady.
I felt this in my soul. I keep old letters and journals like a hoarder- they always reveal more about me then anything else I could ever put out into the world. I am both grateful and cursed by the internet, and it's ability to keep everything- now all my foibles are in cyberspace for anyone to find at anytime, except me. The Japanese translation almost seems like poetry- is that from the language, or the culture, or is that all you?
wow, wow, that is so emotional on so many levels !!
Wow this is a wonderful piece ...literally help my tears back.Thanks for sharing
speechless, get out of there now, run, it is not too late
It's hard for me to believe someone can write so well. Your letter flowed off the page, like a well thought out poem. It would take me years of solitude, and still not reach your skills. Your writing is an art, I am sure you already know this.
Thanks for putting me in Japan in 1999. You did well. For a few minutes I was a lost 29 year old girl. In the comfort of my small room. Putting emotion to paper. I could even smell the tea steeping. You put a middle aged white guy in your room writing this letter. That is a gift. Now, I want to know what happened to Nao. That is an art.
Thank you, I was not expecting this.
Dale.
Interesting. You had a beautiful handwriting!
I've only recently started learning Japanese. Can't wait before I can start understanding the speech and writing!
good post. I really like it, always success brother
@semi23, first of all you should check the profile and know about the person. She is female not male. and then you should learn whole the post and then comment related to post then it is chance you will rewarded some upvotes, otherwise your this type comments are declared a spammer comments and you will be flaged.
Yes, I understand. I am sorry. I do not use automatic comments
your automated response has fucked up. I am not a 'brother'. Enjoy my flag.
why is that, what am I wrong
do not spam posts with auto comments. Don't do this.
if you can't figure out that i am not male, then i cannot help you.
because you see my reputation has fallen.
honestly my english is not good.
you have to understand.
do not always look up, try to see us people down