Up Again

The thing is, I haven’t done anything, and I feel bad.
It started out with just one thing.
Then two.
Then three, and four, and five…
and Bam!
It’s the end of the day and I’m sitting here with nothing done, still procrastinating by writing this. But I have to get my feelings out, let the honesty flow through my fingers and on to this screen.
Even if I’ll just erase it later.
Because now. Now I’m feeling the heat.
Now the ones I love most feel twice the pain.
Which I can’t begin to imagine. Because this is the worst feeling for me.
And to think they hurt more?...

I’m drowning now.
And I have no idea how much longer I can hold my breath.
It’s up to my lungs, my brain, my sense.
But still it’s like I think I’m allergic.
Completely avoiding the only thing that will make me happier in the end… Why?
How can I sabotage myself with a smile on my face?
How come I can’t face the mess I created?
I’m telling myself it’s too late. That I can’t turn back now.
But inside I know I’m wrong.
I can still come up. And breathe again.
Bring myself up and out of the pool of mistakes I’ve made. Dry myself off. Soak in the sun. Get a Tan. And leave the area altogether. I could leave. Get out of here. Never come back. I could. I would.

I should.

But it all starts with the first step. I’ve looked back. Back up at the surface. At the Sun.
I thought the rest of me was paralyzed. But I’m not. It’s all in my head. I’ve psyched myself, but truly, things aren’t as bad as I made them. It’s so simple. So easy.
To turn the rest of my body around. My whole being, to face the surface.
I won’t just float. I’ll have to swim. Hard. Harder than I’ve ever kicked and pedaled.
I have to want it. Of course I want it. My life. I want my real life back for what it’s supposed to be.
I’ve faced the surface. But now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s time to swim. Up.
- H.R.