"The worst thing is watching someone drown and not being able to convince them that they can save themselves by them that they can save themselves by simply standing up"
This time last year, I was drowning. I was too far out to simply stand up, but I was still close enough that if I had just grabbed onto one of the flotation devices around me, I could have been standing up much sooner. I didn't though. I thought my weight was just that: my own. How could I expect one of these floaters to bear my burden, even just a fraction of it?
There was a tiny voice in my head that kept saying "Go on, reach out." but this was constantly lost amidst the roars of self-pity and misdirected anger. As a result, I found myself further out at sea; flotation devices still within sight, but far enough that I would need to swim to get to them. Unfortunately, in all my hesitation and reluctance, I failed to realize the largest and closest floater was drifting away. The current was taking me further out to sea and the floater to a far away land; its own currents forcing it further away. Soon enough, that floater was very nearly out of sight, and to my dismay, back-to-back storms were quickly approaching.
Despite losing sight of my most likely saviour, I remained diffident to reaching for the other flotation devices. On the contrary, in fact: my hesitation remained, and my belief that my weight was purely my own to bear persisted. All the more I thought I could save myself. I was entirely ignorant of the fact that the currents I was facing were too strong to confront on my own.
During the storms I managed to keep my head above water - but only just so. I persisted, alone, what I did not realize was that I was simply coasting along. I wasn't confronting my problems, merely allowing them to take me away. Each time I thought I had reached a depth where I could stand, it was a falsehood - an illusion. I had drifted too far away and the waters were too deep.
I'm still in deep water now, but I'm learning to tread it. I'm also learning that grabbing onto those flotation devices called friends is okay. Actually, it's more than okay, it's good, and it's encouraged to do so. You can save yourself by learning to swim, but sometimes you need the reprieve - nobody was made weaker or any lesser than they were by admitting they needed a break.
Unfortunately, treading water gets exhausting sometimes, and there are moments when I can't tread - not for lack of wanting to, but because I just can't. The desire to tread is present, but the motivation is missing. Even with the aid of those flotation devices, there is no urgency to keep afloat. Despite being unhappy that my head is very nearly under water, I remain in a stasis, neither sinking nor rising above.
This recent experience of not being able to convince myself to float, in spite of my every desire to do so, has made me reflect that perhaps more is required to get me out of the deep end. Maybe it isn't just an issue of the conceptual mind, but an issue of physiology and chemistry.
In any case, I am still so very far from the shores that I long to be near. There is no doubt that the journey back will be lengthy and tumultuous, but finally beginning to reach out and rely on others will help smooth some of the obstacles, even just a little, throughout the transition. I will stand up again in shallow waters, but for now I will continue to fight to maintain my head above water.
