It’s kind of hard to describe how I’m feeling. It’s kind of like… I’m sinking. Not drowning, you understand. Just sinking.

You see, drowning is active. It implies a fight.

I am not fighting. I’m just sinking. Passively. On some level, I want to fight. On some level I want to beat against the water and work my way to the surface. But I can’t do that. And on other levels, I don’t want to. It’s not that I’m tired…Well. Maybe it is. Maybe I’m tired of fighting. Hope–lofty, gorgeous, unattainable hope– has again been taken from me. And without that hope, there are no fights to be fought…

So, passively, I’m sinking.

I can feel the waves. They slam into me. I can feel them on my skin, beating my rib cage. They overwhelm my body with fear and anxiety. They send shudders down my spine and beg my insides to explode. The pressure of them against me pushes me inward on myself. But there are waves inside as well, trying to push their way out. They coat my bones with friction and make every inch of my skin crawl. My muscles tremble convulsively, not sure how to handle the pressure they receive on every side.

Sill, I sink. The water, clear or muddied or filled with foam, is empty. I am alone in it’s depths. I find myself wondering if that is how I’ve always been. If I’ve made myself this way. If this is the way it will always be. Loneliness is desperate thing because, while walking with someone, laughing on dry land, a part of you is still deep within it’s waters. It sounds like a terrifying thought but I’m pretty numb right now. The fear comes, nameless, in the waves.

You would think I would be use to the water.

I guess I’ll have to be.

Don’t be like me. Don’t sink. Don’t hope you’ll eventually get use to the way the water spins you and that someday you’ll find the desperate comfort you seek somewhere in it’s depths. Choose to let people–multiple people– choose to let them into the waters with you. Choose to allow them to help you find the surface. Choose to tell them when you feel this way. Choose to be open and vulnerable. Choose not only to care, but to be cared for. Choose to fight against the loneliness and tell people when the waves are hitting you. Choose.

Do not be like me.



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