Close your eyes.

Breathe in, breathe out. Now focus.

Imagine an ocean- dark, mysterious, unknown. The skies above it are like charcoal, and the drops of rain puddle into the sea. Now picture the waves rough and choppy, with a cliff in the distance. The shore is too far off for a swimmer to reach, but close enough to be hopeful for safety.

Now picture yourself, someone so insignificant that only a handful of people would care if you cease to exist, lying in the crashing waves. The icy water surrounds your bare arms, your bare chest, your bare legs. The droplets of water falling from the cloudy sky- and every rain drop- is something that pressures you.

The pressure to get good grades.
The pressure to live up to your families expectations. The pressure to fit into society’s definition of “perfect.”

All of these pressures are the little pellets that constantly fall on your motionless body, stinging like knives.

You can try to fight the current and rough waters, but you know it’s no use because the shore that you can see with your empty eyes is too far away. You’re too weak to move, let alone swim miles.

Your body seems hollow, sad, useless. Imagine lying there lifeless, wanting to struggle against all the odds, but your mind talks you out of it because the rain keeps flooding your way out.

The rush of the water pulling your feet down is your conscious.

It’s constantly telling you things that you don’t want to hear:

“You will never be good enough.”

“You’re ugly, just look at yourself.”

“Compare yourself to that girl in the magazine- why aren’t you her?”

The words of the current drag you down deeper, but because of the pressures, you believe the voice and you oblige to the drowning.

You know you’re close to shore- to safety- but it’s too late. Your body has already given up.

And so you lie there in the frigid liquid, not even bothering to try anymore.

This is heartache.

This is sadness.

This is depression.