I spent many years clumsily trying to describe the emotions stirring inside of me, but never portrayed
them in a very accurate way.

Over the summer I held my breath and sunk to the bottom of a pool and opened my eyes to the clear,
chlorinated water.

It's like looking at the world through a mutated piece of glass.

Things look close enough to touch, but they're too distorted to make out.

You hear people laughing in the distance, but the silence presses further into your eardrums making
it impossible to listen.

You're light headed, but there's weight pressing against your chest.

If you try to breathe, it burns. It chokes you and strangles the life out of you until you resurface.

This is the life of a person who has been long gone for quite some time.

The difference separating a summer swim and depression is being able to reach the top for air.

Imagine having a weight chained to you at the bottom of a pool. That's what depression is.

Every time you try to breathe it chokes you, and you spend an eternity at the bottom until it strangles the life out of you.