I sit here, and I’m drowning.

Drowning in everything on my plate. Tears fall. Slowly. One by one. My eyes glisten with sadness. My heart is heavy. Everything hurts. My body is screaming at me.

How could I ever think I could do this? This mom thing. Where I wander aimlessly through. Always needing. Always losing.

My hands touch my hair as I slowly put my head down. Like I can rest. I earned time to rest.

Calmness. Rain falls and I’m refreshed. Content. Brighter even. Except it’s not raining. It’s tears. Visual signs that I’m drowning. I’m sinking. Am I even trying?

I want to live.

I think. Or, maybe. I don’t know. I wanted to. Before the darkness. Before I broke.

When I was normal. Though, what even is normal? Before this haunting held me down. Its nails are long and claw into my skin. Grasping at anything it can reach.


This depression is dark. It’s heavy. It hurts.

Why am I spending these last moments like this? My heart is racing. Why can’t anyone see me?

Is it even happening? Is this real? I’m smiling down at her beautiful hazel eyes. Her tiny fingers wrap around my thumb. My heart races.

My arms are up. I’m invisible. I’m too far gone to save. I’m too far gone for someone to try. Fading away. Little by little.

I blink. I look down and there he is. His dreamy eyes cast on mine and I’m in love.I no longer count kicks.

He’s here.

A sigh of relief. Inhale. Exhale.

Racing heart and I’m back gasping for air. Grasping for help. Screaming. Fading. Slowly falling to the bottom. The bottom of everything that was stronger than me. The evidence that I failed. As if, it’s a test. But isn’t it. A test to live.


Did I not fight hard enough?

I always wondered what under the water looked like.

My eyes are closing. Slowly. Like they’re saying goodbye. My body knows it’s time to go.

My mind goes to my babies.

Their soft, delicate skin.

My last breath is a smile.

and I slowly fade away.

Some Resources:


Mood Disorders


5 thoughts on “She’s Drowning – Thoughts with N

  1. This was so moving to read and powerfully so; it’s visceral. And that’s how I responded to reading it — thank you for sharing this as I am sure many readers will connect and understand these thoughts/feeling and won’t feel so alone. Thanls for the resources to help too — much needed.

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