Head above water

My head is above water. Looks fine. My life is okay, I am above water. Under the waterline is a body frantically trying to swim, Being weighed down by depression, anxiety, stress and trauma. The limbs are exhausted but keep trying. The need to be above water to keep others unconcerned because what if they were to look under the water.

No one wants to look. They may feel forced to care or better yet try to understand. Maybe dive in and lift a weight to help the already overburden body of exhaustion.

But my head is above water.

Above water doesn't make it OK. It gives a fancy illusion like an iceberg. So much underneath, so much weight to carry.

My head is above water but I can't breathe. The burden of holding on to the depression and anxiety is wearing out my lungs. So out of control that I can't catch my breath.

But my head is above water so I'm good, right?