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It’s not easy living under a quiet, heavy blanket of self-depriving beliefs. Not having someone lift the blanket, pull you up for air, and let you know: “now breathe, it’s okay.” The weight presses down, making each breath shallower than the last.

It’s not easy living on your own, with your own thoughts. Not being able to rebound those negative thoughts off a sounding board to keep you sane, in check. The echo chamber of your mind becomes deafening when there’s no one to interrupt the noise.

We need others in our life. Their love. Their brutal feedback. To keep us living. To keep us in check. When you don’t have that other on the other side of the scale, then your side suddenly feels unbearably heavy. The very weight of your scale drags you down to the lowest levels of inferno, where even the flames feel cold.

You need someone to balance things out, to tip the scales between negative and positive thoughts. To grab your hand and pull you back to reality, out of that dark hole of self-depriving loathing. To guide you toward a place of Elysium, where the water is warm and you can float without effort.

Now this is only the extreme example of oneself drowning. One should be able to self-regulate and hold themselves as a “normal”, okay person in society. We should be our own life preserver. But life is about extremes. Being too gluttonous vs temperant to the point of starving oneself or eating oneself to death. Being too greedy vs generous until you lose all of yourself, on both extremes. The pendulum swings wildly when there’s no one to steady it.

You need balance. Not the kind you find alone, but the kind that comes from connection.

You need that other, to balance your thoughts, feelings, and emotions. So that the inborn, inherent instinct you have, that voice that whispers dark things in the depths, does not become an extreme that pulls you under.

We are put on this planet to share our experiences, our extremes with others, to procreate, to find our mate that makes us a better version of ourselves. We’re meant to swim together, not alone.

We are just human after all. With flaws and strengths. The flaws surface when we drown in an empty ocean of self-pitying thought, when the water is so dark we can’t see which way is up. But our strengths surface in an ocean filled with warm currents provided by another, their presence giving us the self-confidence to keep swimming, to trust that there is a surface to break through.

I’ve felt both oceans. The cold one where every stroke feels futile, where the darkness is so complete you forget there was ever light. And the warm one, where someone swims beside you, reminding you that the current of life will lead to warmer waters, a place filled with love and companionship. We are not meant to be alone in this cold world… this ocean. We are meant to survive it with the warm embrace and support of our mate, our friends, our family.

I can’t think of a time that I was happier than a time shared with another. Experiencing the joys, sadness, and happy (or bitter) endings with someone else. That’s what makes living this life worth it. Even the storms are bearable when you’re not facing them alone.

But then darkness falls upon my eyes. A vacuum leaving me in an empty ocean. The weight of the entire sea on my chest. What’s this overwhelming feeling that is drowning me? I feel so cold, alone, and scared. I’m frozen in these dark thoughts, unable to move, unable to swim. I know that I should be pulling myself to a warmer current in order to survive and escape these dark icicles stabbing my very thoughts and heart. Yet here I am, frozen in my thoughts with no one to warm away these cold, stabbing pains. The water has become ice, and I’m trapped beneath it.

A knife over my arm does not cut as deep as the torment that I have frozen myself into. The warm blood that gushes out cannot defrost my cold thoughts, it only stains the water red, making it harder to feel. The ravine I have created brings me closer to deprivation of isolation where now I’m just alone with hurt, loss of love, and drowning. The physical pain is almost a relief from the emotional, but it’s a lie, a temporary distraction that leaves me colder than before.

No matter how deep it cuts, or you, my dear reader, may cut. It’s not worth it. That feeling of self-inflicting hurt will not warm these cold icicles stabbing our heart. The blood in the water doesn’t bring about rescue, it attracts darker thoughts, deeper depths. Do not cut down upon yourself, instead cut up upon those self-hurting thoughts. Cut through the ice above you. Fight back to save yourself.

I haven’t always been perfect, and have yet to reach perfection from harboring those self-detrimental thoughts and actions. I’ve bled into that ocean more times than I want to admit. Yet, one thing I have learned through these dark nightmares: self-inflicted pain is not the path to warmer waters. It’s just another weight pulling you down.

The path to warmer waters isn’t always clear when you’re drowning. Sometimes it’s just about keeping your head above water for one more day. Sometimes it’s about screaming for help even when you think no one can hear you through the overwhelming waves. Sometimes it’s about remembering that oceans have tides, what drowns you today might be shallow enough to stand in tomorrow.

And if you’re reading this from your own cold ocean, know this: you’re not alone in these waters. We’re all swimming, all struggling, all searching for warmer waters. You are not alone in these dark depths that we swim in (or sometimes feels like we’re drowning in). We have the ability to create a current that leads us all to shore.