When days are at Breaking Points

Drowning.

       That's close to what I feel right about now. I'm struggling but I'm barely reaching the surface. I wave my arms, desperately trying to lift myself up. I look around and see nothing but emptiness and darkness, with the light from surface flickering bright from above. Oh how I desperately swim, my arms pointing upward, perhaps holding a shred of hope for someone to pull me up.

       But my efforts are useless, I'm only sinking deeper. I can't breathe, but it seems like I am. The ocean slowly becomes a part of me, finding its way to my lungs, telling me to let go.

       I struggle again, a little stronger this time, my fingers inches away from the blessed surface. I kick my legs and keep my head up, and with one final push I break out. I rose violently, the surface echoing thick waves.

       I can breathe again, my lungs coming back to life. I let the heat of the sun course through, the light from its rays blinding me. It burns me, but I don't care. I just want the sun.

       But just as another ray hits me, I am pulled under the water. I have yet again to struggle with the binds that pull me under. I kick, I fight. I desperately rip the binds apart.

       Then it lets me go, leaving me alone once again deep under the ocean. I want to get out, because I'm worn out. I'm so tired I could barely move my body. The ocean threatens to fill me up again.

       I want so badly to rest my body and lie for hours on sand.
Then I realize, that when I was up the surface, I saw no shore.
I'm now struggling as look around the ocean's darkness. Then I look above once more, focusing on the flicker of light above.

       Here I go again.