Beneath the Wave

The first time I can remember asking me if I was 'just doing it for attention', I cried funeral tears. 

I had to leave therapy early, and though I was surrounded by fellow patients and hospital staff, I was inconsolable. I didn't attend any group activities for the day, and I only came out of my room for dinner. 

It had stung for someone I loved so much to doubt the existence of my pain, And now that I understand so much more, there is something I need to say about those who 'do it for attention.' 

Of course we are. 

Everything inside of us is screaming. 

We feel just like children, standing in the sand as the tide pulls back; We know we should probably do something, but we didn't understand our options, or if we even had any. 

One time when I was eight, my family took a trip to the beach in California. I'd had plenty of lessons on how to swim, but I had never learned how to fight against the waves. 

And when the waves pulled me under, I didn't know how to fight back. 

I didn't know I was supposed to move with the wave, or, swim under it. All I knew was that I was breathing in water. 

I struggled for two minutes, getting in frantic gasps of air before I was pulled back under. Finally I made my way back to shore, but the feeling of being trapped beneath the wave, and the taste of salt in my mouth had left me too terrified to venture back into the Ocean again that day. 

And so, I suppose what I'm trying to say is this; No one taught me how to fight the power of the ocean. 

For two horrible minutes, I thought I was surely going to die and all I had wanted was my mom, or my dad, or God, 

To save me. 

And what should I have done but cry for help?

Or cut my wrists?

Or Panic inconsolably? 

I was drowning,

And I had no idea how to save myself.