Sinking
I am sinking.
Every step is a battle against the tar that is the anxiety seeping from my mind.
It is determined to suck me back down to that dark place I am trying so hard to escape from.
I fear it is succeeding.
I am sinking.
It's like I'm struggling against quicksand mired the way I am in this depression that I just can't shake off.
Every move causes me to sink deeper and deeper.
Have I finally found myself in a fight I can't win?
I am sinking.
I watch this negativity that oozes from my very flesh push everyone away like those who once fled from plague victims.
They fear this disease of darkness that consumes me as if it is catching.
They are right to fear.
I am sinking.
Soon I know I will be alone in my misery as self doubt finally casts bleak enough shadow over me that I am no long visible to those who once cared.
No one will see my hand still outstretched for help as it sinks beneath the waves of my desolation.
I'll simply fade to a memory of a sad girl who was lost beyond hope or saving.
I don't want to sink.
I don't want to drown in this tossing sea of oblivion.
I need an anchor or rock or something to cling to before my head slips beneath the surface forever.
Help me, I don't want to be lost.
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