Sometimes I can't help everyone until I help myself. I've been drowning recently, but I can hold my breath very well. Going on ten years strong so far without surfacing.

I catch glympses of rays of sunshine breaking through the depths. They bring me hope as my eyes follow them up to the surface, only to slowly see them dissapate.

I've been swimming for a long time. No sign of breaching the waves yet. It's eerily calm and stressful. The pressure builds and builds, threatening to kill me in a single instant, but my heart is too strong. It will never cave in.

Hope fills my lungs, keeping that breath going, but doubt is weighing me down. Uncertainty is clouding my eyes, and the weight of the world feels like it bears down on me.

"Don't be stupid. This is a petty qualm!"

"But, I want to help."

"You can't! You're drowning!"

"I can keep going. I have to keep going. For them. They need me."

"That's what you said with the last one! And the one before that and the one before that. They all need you! When will it stop?"

"It won't ever stop. This is what I need to do. This is all I can do."

"Another anchor to tie around your feet. Think you can scrape the rust from this one? Make it all shiny and new? Polish it up and give it attention that nobody else gives it? The attention it deserves?"

"If I don't... then no-"

"If you don't then nobody will. That's not true and you know it. If they constantly seek your attention, when will it stop? How many anchors do you have? More than you'd be willing to admit, I bet?"

"I can carry them. I can carry them all."

"And look where it's gotten you. No closer to the surface. They're drowning. You're drowning. You're only hurting yourself. You tried to help them, but you need to continue. If they can't fix themselves, then how do you plan to fix yourself when you're being dragged down like this?"

It was at that moment that I realize that I had nothing else to say. Reality closed in, caving in my lungs, defeating the hope that had filled it for years and years.

A loose knot was released and a weight was removed. Staring longingly at it, the polish and the gleem, the attention I gave it and the attention I couldn't, all dropped in a single instant. It was heavy as my regret followed along.

I turn to swim some more. I'm making progress, but my lungs are deflating. My conscience is the only friend that truly understands the deepest parts of my mind. Others can peer into the glass walls that I've erected for them, but only my conscience has experienced the truth.

I can't keep going like this. My body is tired. I struggle each day with issues others would deem petty. I can't complain because I'm constantly told that I'm in a better position.

I can't talk because I've been holding my breath, clinging to the hope filling my lungs. Even it is slowly dying. Doubt and pressure surrounding my very body as I struggle to keep it together.

Can I hold out?

I can... I just have to keep swimming.