Drowning
September 2nd 2007
I don’t know what actual drowning feels like (well there was that one incident when I was a child but that’s not relevant here), but I know how I feel when the darkness pushes down on me. I feel heavy—to lift my legs is an effort. To get out of bed is an effort. To see people is an effort. Drowning in the depths of depression—so deep no amount of pills or therapy can help. The only cure is a the desire to escape so I start swimming my way back to the top even though I can’t see the surface of the water yet. I hate the vague murkiness; I want to see the clean water, the bright sun, the blue sky. But first, I must move my limbs and crawl through the darkness even though I cannot see where I am going. I have to trust myself that I can make it out alive.
AWW — XoXo
