On Hell and Forgiveness

[Angrboda]

I think it is just plain stupid to think a person can be eternally happy with just their thoughts. Humans need relationships, contact, routines, stimuli, affection, etc. etc. or they will go off the rails. Emotions attached to nothing directed at nothing and from nothing become meaningless. Only regret persists. Add to that black void of no inputs or outputs and that is a horrible existence. Your "it's not that bad" is simply ridiculous.

If God exists, you are not totally removed from his presence right now. He sustains the universe (and you) in being by his will whether you know it or not. The point is that know one knows the significance that separation will have on someone's soul. 

Which means that nobody knows, even if your scenario is the case, what the effects would be. they could be quite positive, right?
I simply disagree that contemplation is such a torture. In fact, I have little doubt that I could survive isolation if provided basic necessities. That doens't mean I don't like being around (certain) people. But it does mean it isn't as vital (for me) as many make it out to be.
I see no reason why 'only regret persists'. If anything, I would say that the positive memories would persist longer and become more and more precious over time. And I disagree with your claim that such an existence would be meaningless. meaning is something derived at the time.
If the choice is non-existence or existence in the presence of a tyrannical deity, I definitely prefer non-existence.

Locked-in syndrome, in which the patient is conscious and aware, but otherwise unable to speak or act, may be the closest thing to what you are imagining. Few recover from locked-in syndrome, but the account of one survivor might offer some potential clues.

Marsh has never spoken publicly about his experience before. But in an exclusive interview with the Guardian, he gave a rare and detailed insight into what it is like to be "locked in".

"All I could do when I woke up in ICU was blink my eyes," he remembered. "I was on life support with a breathing machine, with tubes and wires on every part of my body, and a breathing tube down my throat. I was in a severe locked in-state for some time. Things looked pretty dire.

"My brain protected me – it didn't let me grasp the seriousness of the situation. It's weird but I can remember never feeling scared. I knew my cognitive abilities were 100%. I could think and hear and listen to people but couldn't speak or move. The doctors would just stand at the foot of the bed and just talk like I wasn't in the room. I just wanted to holler: 'Hey people, I'm still here!' But there was no way to let anyone know."

. . . . . . . .

"You're at the mercy of other people to care for your every need and that's incredibly frustrating, but I never lost my alertness," he said. "I was completely aware of everything going on around me and to me right from the very start, unless when they had me medicated," he said.

"During the day, I was really lucky: I never spent a single day when my wife or one of my kids wasn't there. But once they left, it was lonely – not in the way of missing people but the loneliess of knowing there's no one there who really understands how to communicate with you."

. . . . . . . .

"Time goes by so slow ... It just drags by. I don't know how to describe it. It's almost like it stands still.

"It's a terrible, terrible place to be but there's always hope," he added. "You've got to have hope."

Locked-in syndrome: rare survivor Richard Marsh recounts his ordeal