Drowning In Plain sight

So, here I am, staring at my ceiling like it holds all the answers. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t. Honestly, I’ve spent so much time up here that I should probably get a membership or something. I wish I could say I’m just being dramatic or that I’m “attention-seeking” like everyone says. But let’s be real—if I wanted attention, I wouldn’t be hiding under my blanket, sobbing my eyes out. I’d be out there, center stage, basking in the spotlight.

But nope. Instead, I’m here, in my room, listening to the muffled sounds of life happening outside my door. My parents think I’m just being a lazy teenager, skipping school and shutting myself away. They don’t see the anxiety attacks that hit me like a freight train when I think about walking through those school doors. They don’t know how the idea of pretending to be okay makes my stomach churn. So, yeah, it’s easier to just stay in bed and avoid all of that.

“Why don’t you just go to school?” they ask. “It’s not that hard.” Oh, if only they understood that it feels like climbing a mountain every day. Each step is heavy, like I’m carrying the weight of a thousand expectations on my shoulders. And when I don’t make it to the top? Well, I’m just lazy. Or “dramatic.” It’s frustrating, you know? I mean, would you blame me for not wanting to face a place where everyone pretends to be perfect and happy?

I don’t think I’m asking for much. I just want someone to listen—to actually hear me. Instead, I feel like I’m drowning in this sea of isolation, and no one even notices. Everyone else is swimming along just fine, while I’m flailing, gasping for air, hoping someone will throw me a lifeline. But instead, I get “you’re just looking for attention,” and “stop being so dramatic.”

Sometimes, I wish I could just scream and let it all out. But that would probably get me in trouble. There’s no room for “drama” in my house. It’s all about keeping up appearances, right? So, I sit here in silence, tears streaming down my face, feeling more alone than ever.

It’s funny how no one can see me when I’m right in front of them. I could be standing in a crowded hallway, feeling completely invisible, and no one would bat an eye. They only notice when I skip class or when my grades slip. But they don’t see the nights I spend tossing and turning, wrestling with thoughts that won’t quiet down. They don’t know about the heart-pounding moments when I feel like I’m drowning in this relentless tide of anxiety.

I guess this is my way of venting. This is me shouting into the void, hoping that somehow, someone out there will get it. That someone will understand that my struggles are real, even if they don’t look like what everyone else expects. Because when you’re drowning in plain sight, it’s not about being dramatic. It’s about surviving.

So, here I am, starting this journey of putting my thoughts down on note, hoping it will somehow help. Maybe someone will read this and realize they’re not alone, either. Maybe I’ll find a way to express what it feels like to fight battles no one else can see. Or maybe it’ll just be a collection of my ramblings—my little refuge from a world that feels too overwhelming most days.

Who knows? But I’m starting anyway. And maybe, just maybe, this will help me float for a while.