I see the light through closed eyes. It burns. It scares me. Where am I? What happened to me?

I hear the voices but cannot understand, what they are saying. Questions… Did somebody ask me something? I don’t understand! Please! Talk slowly or just shut up. You are giving me a headache! What’s going on?!

I want to see in what trouble I’ve landed myself this time, but my eyelids made of iron and don’t belong me anymore. They rebel against my command, and I give up. Exhausted, I drift away…

 “I know you are back here “–  distant voice comes through thick cocoon of confusion I seems to be wrapped in. “Do you remember ,what happened?”

I don’t answer, giving up on coming out of, whatever this place is, alive. The eyes are still closed; I don’t want my torturer to see, that I have fear.

Something touches my lips.

” Drink”

Suddenly, I feel thousand needles of thirst inside my throat, and too weak to refuse, I accept the offer.

“There is somebody waiting for you”

I just stay still, listening to approaching steps.Somebody sobs.

“Oh, my boy… My boy…What have you done?”-the voice explodes in my head with the effect of a nuclear bomb.

“Mum?”-I look at her pale face, and the agony in her eyes breaks my heart. I die.


I remember ugly arguments with my father, bringing me on the edge of hating myself.

I remember realising , that I’m attracted to men; and at the time it was a crime. It could land you up to 5 years in prison. Gays were one of the most hated “minorities” in the USSR and the chances, that one survives in a prison were zero.

I remembered feeling like a cornered animal, not being worth breathing. Dirty. Ashamed of myself…

Not knowing better, I was looking for an escape…

 I didn’t plan anything.On some sunny day in march I’ve pretended, that I’m going to school, but waited around the corner for my parents to go to work instead. They’ve left: mum first; couple of minutes later my father.   I’ve entered our empty flat-the aroma of the morning coffee was still fresh in the air.

I’ve noticed an opened pack of cigarettes on the fridge. I took one. Smoked. Then another one.I knew, where my father was hiding a bottle of vodka. I’ve found it and poured me one glass. Feeling no effect, got another one down. Nothing still.

The eyes stopped on a small box, where mum kept all the pills for the times, when one of us falls ill. Plenty of pills. One after another they’ve landed in my stomach, drowning in vodka…I didn’t feel anything. Numb.

I’ve stood up going to get me another pack of cigarettes, as the first one was empty already. The room spun around me couple of times, and the light went off…

I was 15 when I tried to “escape “, and had 20 minutes to live, when my father found me on the kitchen floor and called an emergency…And it will take me the whole life to forget the pain  I’ve caused to those,who loved me…


I’m not in the position to give you any advice on how to live your life. I just beg you: don’t give up! Don’t even think about quitting-the life is worth living, even if sometimes it feels like falling down a pitch black space! Don’t be afraid, because you are not alone.

 I’m here to catch you…