I am at sea. Just floating at the moment. Freezing cold where the ocean has soaked me through. But the tiny bit of me above the water is dry and bathed in sun.
The storms keep rolling in. Sometimes they are in the distance. They just rock me in the waves, which wash over me, rinsing the last dregs of the sun’s warmth from my frozen core. Sometimes they are closer. Drowning me. Removing the breath from my lungs until I am gasping for air. Bringing razor sharp drift wood which bites my skin.
Sometimes in my drifting I can see the land. I can see people happy, talking, laughing. I can see those paddling, dipping their toes in this ocean of misery, trying not to be pulled over by the waves that lap at the shore. I pray that someone will give them a guiding hand before it sweeps their feet out from beneath them.
There is a boat now. People are starting to listen, starting to try to guide me ashore. Sometimes they allow me to cling to their boat in the storms. It isn’t much, I’m still nearly submerged, but I am eternally grateful that you are willing to listen and ride the storms with me. It means so much that I am not adrift alone.
I pray that one day, someone will notice my cries for help, take them seriously and throw me a life jacket that these storms won’t rip to shreds in an instant. That someone will manage to pull me aboard the boat, just for a moment of peace. That somehow you’ll give me a source of heat that will dry me, and thaw out my frozen marrow. But I am still waiting.
For now, please don’t lose patience with me. Please don’t give up on me and return to sunnier shores. I am trying, learning to tread water. But making progress when you are out of your depth and in uncharted waters is not only nearly impossible, but absolutely terrifying too.
Reproduced with permission, originally posted here
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