I took a creative writing class for fun last semester because, well, I love to write. I knew I lacked in the creative aspect of writing so I saw it as an opportunity to strengthen my writing. I'm not entirely sure if that was ever accomplished, but I really enjoyed it more than I thought I would. We were given an assignment to write an Ekphrasis piece. Ekphrasis pieces are pieces of creative writing that are derived, or inspired, by a work of art. That same week, my friend, Dani Larson, had her senior art exhibit on display and I saw a piece hanging up that I never thought I'd ever get to see again.
I bought the painting a week later.
Fathomless Deep
The burning is unbearable. If I could open my eyes, I would. I’m not sure if that’s entirely true though. I don’t think I’d want to come to terms with the fact that I am this by my own choosing…that I have sentenced myself to death. I didn’t want to witness the very thing that was slowly drowning me. My clenched fists aren’t helping me swim but the pain is just too much. My lungs are on fire. My throat is tight. Even if I wanted to open my eyes, I’m not sure if I’d be able to tell which way was up through the burning of the salt in my eyes.
At this point, I have no idea how long I’ve been buried in this deep abyss. All I know is that there’s no getting out of this one. Even if I wanted to change my mind, I couldn’t. I’ve been fighting against an element that I have no control over. My energy has been diminished to the minimum. I can hear my heart beating in my ears as if it’s screaming at me for getting us into this, begging me to not give up, making me think: What have I done? It’s too late for that. Every time I’ve tried to pull myself up a wave comes down and pushes me down deeper.
What sucks the most about drowning is that no one can hear you scream for help because you can’t. They just keep on swimming, keep going on with their lives, or think that you should be able to get yourself out on your own and, if you can’t, then it’s just too bad. That it’s your fault. It’s your fault you thought you could handle it. In the end, you needed help. You ask for help and they just don’t care. What am I supposed to do now? I can’t do it on my own. They’re just going to let you drown so why fight? And that’s when I hear it.
Don’t lose your fight. It’s only takes a little push to pull on through. Stay alive for you and you only. You are worthy of love and belonging regardless of your mistakes, failures, and disappointments. Dawn is coming. Open your eyes. Take pride in what is sure to die.
For the first time in my life, I realize that it is up to me. I do have a say in this, that I have the power to write my own ending to the story. I can keep fighting until the end, even if the end is in this moment. I open my eyes and it’s then that the waves let up. With one last kick with all the energy I have left, I push myself up in hopes that I’ll make it.
After what feels like an eternity, my head breaks through the water and into the open air. I gasp, immediately filling my lungs with life again arguably for the first time. The sun hurts my eyes after being in the dark for so long. I struggle to breathe through my still burning lungs after not being able to breathe for some time. My coughing slowly turns to steady breathing. I look around to see that the ocean is calm. Calm enough for me to take my life back. It feels as if I’ve been reborn. Reborn back into this life in with a second chance to right my wrongs, defend my life and live in places in which I can find love as opposed to tolerance.
I’m not entirely sure where that burst of energy came from as I kicked and rose up from the depths. I should be dead. This is all I can think of as I struggle to stroke my way back to shore.
Fighting as hard as I can, I’m not so confident that I can make it. I feel the waves begin to pick up behind me once more. I keep swimming, desperate to make it as close to shore as I can. Panic jumpstarts my already furious heart at the thought of fighting against that fathomless deep again. It’s then that I realize that the waves I’ve felt are from a white speed boat that is quickly approaching me as if it were destined to cross my path. It comes to a sudden halt relatively close to me as I hear a voice call out to me.
“I came as soon as I saw you break through the water! Please, let me help you!”
I hesitate to grab ahold of her extended arm. What if she doesn’t mean it? What if she’s just like everyone else? But what if she does mean it? What if she isn’t like everyone else? I know that I cannot do this alone and, if I don’t take her hand, I will surely die. I reach up and grab a hold of her extended hand. She pulls me up with everything she has until I’m safely seated on the boat.
“What are you doing all the way out here?” She demands in a frenzy. She’s pulling out a towel from a large duffle bag and throws it around me before I have a chance to answer.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask her. “You don’t have to do any of this for me.” I’m staring at my feet. I can’t find it in me to look her in the eye. The shame of the thought of honestly answering her question was almost as painful as the burning in my lungs.
“What was I supposed to let you do? Go it alone and hope you don’t die? You know, it’s a really awful idea to learn to swim when you start to drown.”
I’m still staring at my feet as she hands me a bottle of water.
“I’m sorry,” she swallows.
I look up to see that she is beginning to weep.
“I don’t mean to sound angry, but I don’t know if you know what it’s like to stumble upon someone who is that close to death. I couldn’t just let you drown.” The tears are spilling from her eyes. I couldn’t understand what I was seeing.
“Promise me you’ll never do that again.” She wept.
“You-you don’t know me,” I say in a jumbled mess. “Why are you so upset?”
“Because you almost died!” she wailed. “Don’t you get it? Some people actually care!”
It takes me a small moment to register the feeling of my own tears falling from my face. This was the closest thing to true love I’ve ever felt in my life and it was from a stranger I didn’t even know existed before this morning. Before I can understand it, we are sharing an irrepressible embrace as we are weeping together in the safety of this boat that only God himself could’ve provided for me in this moment. In the midst of this embrace, I learn that it really is a truth that to love another is to see the face of God. That some people really do care about what happens to you even if you can’t see it yet.
I ended up reading it for part of my final grade at Asbury's creative writing reading. It was harder than I expected to share it because of how personal it is, but, after giving the background to the piece about how hard I was struggling and reading the piece, I was approached by many of my friends who had no idea that I could even be remotely sad, let alone so deeply hurt...and they just loved me. They didn't say anything, they didn't ask me questions, they didn't ask me who they needed to beat up...they just stood up and hugged me one by one and then piled together in one giant group hug. I even had a stranger walk up to me to thank me for sharing my piece because it spoke to him:
“I just wanted to thank you for reading the piece that you read. I’m not sure what it was that you went through, but I feel like I have a small idea of what that might have been like for you because my niece is going through something very similar. I just envisioned her throughout the entirety of your reading and it just meant a lot to me. So, thank you and I’m glad that everything has gotten better for you.”
To say that I was overwhelmed by the response to this piece would, again, be such an understatement. That was one of the most rewarding moments of my life, in terms of my writing. That is what I want. I want people to be able to relate to me and my life, my struggles, my victories and know that they aren’t alone.
Thank you again, Dani, for using and sharing God's love and grace for us through your beautiful creations. This entire experience happened because of you and your willingness to share your God given talent and love me in the process, in a time when it was so hard for me to find.
Listening to "Missing You" by All Time Low
