It hits so hard I feel like I'm drowning. I can't breathe or think or even have rational thoughts. My feet are pointed down and I fall deeper and deeper. The water gets colder and darker. When all of a sudden my ankles are free and I am swimming back up. Air. I can breathe and see and I can feel the warmth of the sun on my skin. I start to swim to shore thinking I am clear until the next wave hits. Not far off from shore, I am pulled back in. Swept under the water and drowning again. Will I make it this time? How long will this episode last? Do I even have enough in me to fight again?
A sense of comfort overwhelms me as I let the cold darkness of the water surround me. Deeper into the water I sink. I can no longer see life around me. I close my eyes, lift my arms out and give in. For a second I am ok. And then that second ends and I open my eyes, looking up. The light starts to dim.
NO! Not today. Not this time. I must fight. I must reach out for anything that I can grab onto. Silent screams escape as I fight. Nothing to grab onto. My feet begin kicking hard and fast as I use my arms to push the water down and my body up.
Reaching out. Searching. I am alone in this ocean of sadness and hopelessness. I've got to fight. I am so close. I can't give up now. I must keep reaching. When all of a sudden many hands are reaching down towards me. The life raft appears. People show up. Tears fall from their faces as they express love and concern. The wind picks up, I'm being rushed away to the shore. It is a bumpy ride as many waves crash into the boat.
I look around and see all their faces. All the love exceeding from the shore. The hope that I will be ok. That I can get the help I need. The pills come, the DR's talk, the family smother. I can't breathe. I want to be alone. Months pass and I am ok. I am out in the world. Living the life I was before. I am happy and smiling. I am ok. I will be ok. I am surrounded by those I love. I've got a great job. A family. A life.
And just like that. I am on the shore playing dangerously close when out of nowhere another wave hits, I try to fight as the waves surround me and I am drowning again.
***This is my life. My depression. You see, sometimes are amazing and others are not. Some days I feel like I give so much of myself to those around me and I feel like I am dirt beneath the shoes on their feet. Some days I feel like a burden. Like those around me would be better off if I was gone. Like my life doesn't matter.
I care to easily. I love to easily. And I am constantly getting hurt. I sometimes feel like I am not good enough. I have survived so much in my life and I have done so much in the life that was given to me. I have overcome the abuse, the drugs, the foster homes, the suicides, and the struggles that life just offers.
Sometimes I feel like I am the glue holding everything together. Like my life does matter. I would be missed. And although I don't always want to live, I also don't want to die.
I have to fight. I have to beat the waves when they roll in. I never know when one will hit or how long one will last. But I am a fighter. I am a survivor. I have to be here. I have to take the time to focus on me, especially when the waves hit. I have to be here for me and for them.
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