Sink or Swim

When I was little, even now, I had an almost innate desire for water. My favorite movie was The Little Mermaid, going to the lake was a trip to heaven, and bath time lasted hours. I always loved things associated with the ocean also. In the Titanic the saddest part of the movie was the most memorable due to the water surrounding them, and perhaps that was the first time I realized water isn’t always a good thing.

They say depression is like drowning, only you watch everyone around you breathing. Drowning is almost beautiful, if you look at someone right about to rise to the surface and realize how simple it would be to never come back up, to remain in the water and breathe your last. The key though, is almost. The cruel reality of death hits quite suddenly and all you need is air. Clawing and clinging and grasping for that one breath takes every ounce of energy in your body. The climax of your life is in that moment, and it feels like you are born for the first time with that first breath above the surface, and the rest has passed away. Maybe that’s why the illistration for Christianity is baptism.

Depression is mind blowing in a literal sense. As the example of water above implies, you feel alone. Rose said it best in the Titanic when she said “I feel like I’m standing in the middle of a crowded room screaming at the top of my lungs and no one even stands up.” How breath takingly devestating! No one even wants to recognize your sadness because they are afraid of it. People try out stupidity and say they understand, and everything will be alright. I want to scream at them “LIES. You don’t even know me, let alone understand me; no one does. Everyone who has ever uttered the three worded curse to me has left. I am completely alone. I’m unable to enjoy your company because I’m waiting for your impending departure.” I whisper instead thank you, and walk away with a smile; more accurately a grimace-I’ve forgotten what a genuine smile looks like.

Many people say love is what is most needed by people. But to me, recognition is so much more desired. People are remembered when recognized in the navy, loved and respected when brought to attention. The shadow creatures are forgotten and left to fend for themselves. I wish this wasn’t how it was, but it is. I’ve broken my own soul in pieces because I shared my feelings, dreams, and secrets with each of the supposed faces composed of trust. I didn’t realize that I was talking to a superficial mask: a liar, self-protector, and a stealer of my love. I’ve said it before, but I don’t want to fall in love, because it turns out that no one ever catches me. I’m just one of those people everyone enjoys leaving; I guess my job is to be the jester, entertainer of others at my own expense, clothed in self hatred, even though I never signed up for any of this.

I’d rather drown in the sea then continue to be me for your enjoyment and use.

So leave me be.

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