I Fell into the Abyss — and Lived to Tell the Story

It wasn't a fall. It was a melting.
No way back, and no idea how to swim forward.
But I’ve learned how to be present—while falling.

Thanh Van Giang
01 Jul 2025 — 3 min read

I. It All Began with the Fog

I used to think everyone saw the world as clearly as a printed map.
But not me. I lived in the fog.
Everything was blurry, uncertain, adrift.

I thought I was lazy.
Thought I was a dreamer.
Turned out—I was drifting.

II. Out of One Cave – and Into Another

When I moved to America, I thought I had left Plato’s cave—
the one where people only saw shadows.

But I realized: that was just the physical cave.

I was still trapped in the cave of the mind.
Still operating under old frameworks—success, logic, meaning, position.

“I had left the physical cave – and now I was leaving the mental one.”

III. I Began to Fall – and No One Noticed

No one really saw my collapse.
It wasn’t loud.
No big loss, no obvious failure.

Just…

Falling—without a bottom.
No pain.
No one I could speak to.

I fell.
Kept falling.
No bottom.
No direction.
No feeling.

I began to ask myself:
How long will I keep falling?
Is there a bottom waiting for me?
Or am I the pit itself?

I thought I was falling through the world.
But no—
I was falling through myself.

IV. I Saw Myself Falling

I wasn’t just falling—
I saw myself falling.
And that awareness made me less afraid.

If I hadn’t seen it, maybe I would’ve slept through the long slide.
But I was awake. And I knew.

I remember asking myself:
Why falling—not drifting or losing my way?

Because drifting still implies water.
Wandering still implies earth.
But this…
This was falling into a space with no life.

An abyss with no breath.
A swirling void—like AI—no light, no emotion, no shape.
Just pull.

V. Micro Panic – and the Isolation of Awareness

I panicked. No one saw.

Not in the convulsing, screaming kind of way.
Just a micro panic attack—
A moment where I couldn’t tell what part of me was still human.

I remember standing still. Arms limp.
Couldn’t cry.
Couldn’t think.
Couldn’t get out.

Later I learned—
Others had walked journeys like this.
Not always falling like mine.
But also pulled out of familiar selves, with no foothold.

They survived.
And when I read their words,
I no longer felt entirely alone.

VI. Heraclitus – A Silent Companion

When I could no longer believe in stability, I met Heraclitus.

“No one steps in the same river twice.”
“Change is the only constant.”

He didn’t say much.
He just stood there, inside me—
as part of a current that didn’t need saving.

VII. I Am Furnace Fire

I didn’t burn out.
I burned through.

I am fire—
but not a reckless flame.
I am fire in a furnace—
needing a mold, needing discipline, so I don’t destroy myself.

“I want to anchor myself into a system.
Not just think in systems—but be the system.”

VIII. Loneliness – the Kind You Can’t Speak Of

I tried to share.
But people listened with ears, not with mind.

They called it overthinking.
I didn’t blame them.
I just grew quieter.

“I understand them. But that doesn’t make me feel any less alone.”

“I can’t keep living by their frame of reference anymore…”