Sometimes. Too often. I feel I am drowning. Like I can barely keep myself above the water. Even on good days it still feels like treading water, as if I am merely biding time till my energy runs out. Waiting for it to become too much, for it to overwhelm.
I forget I have not drowned yet. That I have never let the waters completely close over my head. Despite all that life has sent my way.
I have faced the very real possibility of my own death.
Said goodbye to people far sooner than I thought I would.
Lived with the soul crushing emptiness of depression. The tears, the whole what-is-the-point-of-it-all. And the sheer panic of anxiety. Feeling crushing fear when meeting people, going somewhere new, using the phone, sometimes even just facing a new day.
Challenge after challenge. Change after change.
And I have not let it stop me. I have travelled halfway round the world, lived in a different country, moved and moved again. Taken myself to the gym, to mental health support groups, put myself in situations over and over again that my anxiety and depression have done everything in their power to talk me out of.
I am still afloat.
At some point in all of this, I learnt to swim.