You’re not alone. I’m here. I’m drowning too.

Do you know what it feels like to drown on dry land?

It starts with a whisper. A thought. A memory. And then it’s everywhere.

The air is gone. My chest is a cage, and my heart is a wild animal trying to break free. My lungs are empty, but I can’t fill them. I’m gasping, choking, suffocating—but no one hears. No one sees.

Do you know what it’s like to feel the walls closing in when there are no walls? To feel the ground crumbling beneath you when you’re standing still?

I do.

And then comes the spiral. The thoughts. The "what ifs" and "why nots" and "how could I’s."

What if I’m not enough?

What if I never will be?

Why not just give up?

Why not let the darkness take me?

How could I let this happen?

How could I be so blind, so stupid, so weak?

The whispers turn into screams. The screams turn into silence. And the silence is the worst part. It’s not peaceful. It’s not calm. It’s the kind of silence that screams louder than any noise. It’s the silence of being utterly, completely alone.

Do you know what it’s like to wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, your heart pounding like it’s trying to escape your chest? To reach for your phone, desperate for someone—anyone—to tell you it’s just a dream, only to realize there’s no one there? No one to hold you. No one to whisper, "It’s okay. I’m here." No one to remind you that you’re real, that you’re alive, that you matter.

I do.

Do you know what it’s like to miss someone so much it feels like a physical ache? To reach for them in the dark and find only emptiness? To hear their voice in your dreams, so clear, so real, that when you wake up, the silence feels like a betrayal? To lie there, staring at the ceiling, wondering if they ever think of you, or if you’re just a ghost in their memory?

I do.

Do you know what it’s like to feel like a burden? To feel like every word you say, every breath you take, is a disappointment to someone? To feel like you’re constantly letting people down, even when you’re trying your best? To look in the mirror and see not a person, but a problem?

I do.

And the worst part? The worst part is knowing that no matter how much I scream, no matter how much I cry, no one will ever truly understand. No one will ever feel this pain the way I do. No one will ever see the cracks in the walls, hear the whispers in the dark, feel the weight of what’s already happened.

But maybe you do. Maybe you’re sitting there, reading this, and thinking, "I know. I feel it too."

And if you are, I want you to know this:

You’re not alone.

I’m here.

I’m drowning too.