Augustine's Sanity

c h a p t e r. 2

"You were born with a broken heart. From the cracks of it love oozes out."
― Lidia Longorio

chapter 2

Do you ever wonder what it's like to drown?

Not in the this would be a good way to die or the joking with friends, I'd rather drown than be caught on fire way--

But the I feel like my ribs are splintering inside my chest and puncturing my lungs with every breath and the panic feels like ice as it flows through me and anxiety is the saltwater that fills my mouth and my thoughts are like hands holding my head under water kind of way?

Augustine never has to question what it feels like, never has to wonder.

Because he knows exactly how it feels to drown but that suffocation-- that suffocation is in his head.

His thoughts clog up his airway and make it impossible to focus on anything but the bottomless pit that is suddenly his lungs.

He knows what it's like to drown.

There's one thing his mother ways lectures him about, always tells him he should try to become like.

Perfection.

Even the word tastes like chlorine filled water.

That's what everyone aspires to be, right? They want to be perfect, they want to be able to stand up straight with a beaming smile and say, "Look at me! I have no flaws, you can love me now!"

It's bitter, really.

Perfection is boring-- always has been.

Why be someone who literally makes no mistakes when some of the best things in life are caused by human error?

What's so bad about having flaws?

Why can't people just be themselves instead of trying to be the perfect cookie cut out of what someone is supposed to be like?

Augustine thinks perfection is like drowning.

At first, it's fine.

The water along with the urge to do everything flawlessly is shallow, then you submerge yourself into the goosebump-inducing water not realizing how deep it is.

Next, the compliments pour as people recognize how well you did something. So you crave the attention more; you think you can handle the pressure even when you sink further under the surface of the water with every extra compliment.

Then, you get consumed by the waves without being able to come up for air or hold your breath.

You think everything is okay.

But then you can't breathe.

The expectations are too high, the surface is too far above your head and your legs are caught on some seaweed and you're running out of air and then you're hyperventilating and choking on reality.

Hope and air bubbles leave your mouth as water runs down your throat as it and the unbearable chill of fear chokes you.

You're as good as dead, right?

Who would save someone who is drowning when they seem so perfect while doing so?

You have to save yourself if no one else is going to, you have to rip your legs free and swim like your life depends on it because it does.

You're drowning, water is filling your lungs, and you have barely lived long enough to deserve the feeling of terror that you are right now.

You have to save yourself.