I feel as though I am drowning in a sea of emotions I can not comprehend,

The tide of uncertainty washing me furthur from shore,

My life jacket cannot save me here,

I am floating and keeping watch for sharks,

Terrified more of a slow death than the quick one they could bring.

Of course, I know these are metaphors,

I am not drowning,

I am simply overwhelmed,

Although I would argue that panic attacks feel like drowning,

That anxiety is pushing me furthur from shore,

That my coping mechanisms are failing from fatigue,

That I would rather kill myself than suffer any longer from this depression.

My metaphors make it easier to ignore myself decaying,

My sea of emotions is my coping mechanisms breaking,

My tide is my anxiety,

My life jacket is me saving me from myself,

My shark is my depression,

My ocean ecosystem is my complex mental illnesses battling grounds.

I am not a simple being.

I am held together with duct tape and superglue.

I am fragile.

But so are the best works of art.

And I am not done sculpting,


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