I fought to keep my head above the surface, screaming at my brain to make the useless muscles work.
Everything that has clouded my mind for too long, the heavy heart, the things I’ve kept bottled up – they’ve grown and pressed down on me until I could no longer bear the weight.
You pulled me under. Each and every one of you who never believed in me.
Or was it me who let herself fall? Tired of the fight, I gave in.
All the energy wasted on a frenetic search for a solution or, preferably, an exit – and there it was – easy and peaceful, it seemed. I lay my limp body down on the bottom, embraced by the infinite blue, the cold prickling my tired skin.
This could end right here. Quietly. Just me and the water.
I thought I could see their faces, blurred and misshaped, their voices muffled out. I bet they were laughing. See? I told you she’d go down easy.
Easy. So easy. Too easy.
There was something else I saw. I thought I was too deep in, but the sun still cut through, its beams blinding to the eyes that had already lost all the light.
Something woke up in me, as if responding to the sun’s call to life. A warmth, a burning sensation.
This will not end here.
My limbs moved through the pain and somehow, I forced my way up.
I burst through the surface with a newly found fire and a strength I never knew my fragile body possessed.
The first thing babies do when they come to this world with no will of their own is cry.
The second time I was born, it was my choice.
So I laughed till I was sure the universe heard me.