I am an independent person. Maybe too independent sometimes, but I don’t mind. I don’t mind being on my own, I enjoy my alone time, and sometimes I don’t want to share my problems with anyone else. It can be easier to deal with certain things alone. These are things I believe to be true. Why is it, then, that I feel so terribly lonely and sad right now? If I enjoy my independence and I like being alone, why am I having trouble sitting in my own company without the distraction or noise of another person? Why am I feeling held captive by my thoughts rather than lost in them? Why do I feel like I am the last person I want to be with right now?

I tend to bottle things up, I have emotional walls built, and I only let people in halfway but believe I am letting them in completely. These are things I was recently told are true. I think I have closed myself off from the only people who may be able to help me. I think this is a process I started a long time ago, and I am only now realizing how it is ruining me. I want nothing more than to call my mother with tears streaming down my face and beg her to please help me. I want nothing more than to look my best friend in the face and say “I need you right now more than anyone”. I want nothing more than to drive to my brother’s house and cry in his arms, but I can’t. Because I am strong, because I am independent, because I am cold and emotionless, because I don’t need help, and because the walls around my heart are too strong to crumble that easily. I am the big bad wolf trying desperately to blow the brick house down with no luck, losing my breath and becoming lightheaded in the process. 

My heart is broken. It has been for a long time, and I don’t know how to fix it this time. This is no teenage heartbreak caused by a boy I did not date. This is the damage caused by my own decisions, the destruction by my own hands. I’m an adult now, right? I can handle this, right? This loneliness, this desperation to have someone, anyone at all, it’s all a part of growing up, right? This is not a real problem. This is something everyone goes through, it’s normal. I need to get over myself and stop being dramatic, right? 

What is it that I know to be true with complete certainty? I know that I have never felt as helpless or empty as I do right now. I know that I have never sat in my bed, lacking the motivation to even stand. I know I have never been this lonely while surrounded by people who love me. I know that this is the first time I have wished to sink far down into the ocean if only to be surrounded by the cool, calm, quiet that only being submerged in water can provide. I know that I have never been so unable to produce tears while simultaneously knowing that the only thing that will help is to cry. I know that the only thing I want is to be known. To be heard fully. To be seen completely without judgment and be loved anyway. I’m not saying that I have never felt sadness or loneliness or even had a broken heart because I have, but this emptiness is new. The feeling of having no one who knows me is new. 

I feel as though I’m a fish at the pet store. I’ve been living in one tank my whole life, surrounded by friends and family who have known me since I was young. These fish I’ve been living with know everything about me. Sure, there are some who know me better than others, but we are a community. Suddenly, on a random Wednesday afternoon, someone decides they want to take me home to a new tank. I should be excited, right? This is an opportunity that not everyone gets, and I’m thrilled for a while. I’ll get to meet new fish and make new friends, I’ll finally find the independence I’ve been searching for my whole life. I’ll have the space to find out exactly who I am. And this is how it feels for a little while.

But then, the days go by, and I’m in this tank with these new fish I’ve never met before, in this room I’ve never seen before, and they don’t know me. They don’t get my references, they don’t think I’m funny, I’m not as smart as them. They’ve lived together for as long as they can remember, and they don’t need any new friends. They don’t need any more additions to their circle, so I sit by myself. I swim in circles for hours day after day, all alone. And this isn’t so bad at first. I wanted independence, right? This honestly isn’t terrible, maybe a little different than I’d expected, but it could be worse. 

Until I realize I cannot remember how many days I have been swimming. Everything begins to blur together, and it seems that time has passed me by suddenly. And as this begins to dawn on me, I feel myself losing my breath. How could this be happening? I am a fish swimming in a tank full of water, why can’t I breathe? And then I am drowning. I am a fish drowning in its own home. I am a fish who cannot even thrive when it is put in the exact conditions it needs. 

I am a fish desperately trying to get one full breath of air.