There's a fine line between hope and fear. You see, hope is that saving grace, the very thing that encourages and pushes you on through each and every one of your experiences. Hope is for the stubborn and I will admit, I was born stubborn. Fear will stop at nothing to hold you down; it's devious like that. The thing about fear is, it lures you in, like a child drawn to a wishing well only to get pushed into the depths below.
You don't notice it at first, the fall. One minute you're so elated that nothing not even petty drama amongst, completely "mature" friends can get you down. Or an argument with your parents about who started what. Or even failing that algebra quiz you thought you'd ace with flying colors. It doesn't phase you in the slightest. But that's where you begin to fall. And when you get to the very bottom, the climax of the story book you've been struggling through for so long, you realize that you've lost yourself.
I sat alone, thousands of feet below sea level, in a dark well. It could've been days, weeks, months, maybe even years, but never had I experienced something quite as low as this. There I sat at the bottom of the well, telling myself 'it's fine, everything's fine, someone will come to my rescue eventually,' Then things significantly took a turn for the worst. Over time, bucket fulls of ice cold water seemed to splash down upon me in cycles. Higher and higher the water rose, from my ankles up to my chin. My clothing clung to me, an anchor weighing me down. It didn't take long before I began to feel numb, literally. As hyperventilation set in, I lost feeling in my hands, face, and on rare occasion legs. I need to breathe, I can't breathe!
BZT! BZT! BZT!
I open my eyes and there I was wrapped in the warmth of my blanket, the room illuminated by the neon lights of my own basement. With shaky hands and unsteady breaths, I reached for my phone, struggling to remain in the ripples of reality. I had 12 notifications, my homework wasn't finished, and I am not alone. I took a few deep breaths, rose from the floor and sat myself back down in front of my computer screen to finish my paper, because I'll be damned if I let my favorite subject drop below an 80 at most.
This was my downfall, the absolute lowest I have ever felt. Of course, I was never in any real danger, but fears that stem from anxiety seem to love to make you think so. They twist and mold your thoughts into that of fiction.
