Anti-Depressant

The sound of water rushing by, as my ears clogged. The feeling of my ears popping as I continued to sink deeper into the dark depths. The crippling fear and realization that I was underwater. The knowledge of how to swim quickly getting lost in the panic. Drowning is not always splashing and cries for help, it is not gasping for air and coughing up water that swam into your lungs as you tried to breathe. Drowning is feeling the water wrap its thick cold body around you, pinning you under.

The water gags you, holds you hostage, it robs you of clear vision as everything blurs through tears that never form. You kick, you flail, you use your fingers to grab anything; anything at all that might give you back your air, but all you feel is water. Your chest cracks and aches like as your lungs beg you to breathe, you release some air and watch the bubbles float up and away. The burning begins, the ringing of your ears, you feel your body relax as everything darkens. Finally, you breathe in. But it is not air, it’s not that soft oxygen that you need. Its salt filled water that chokes you as it makes its way into your lungs. Finding a new home for itself.

Water has never been my friend. It is something I learned at a young age to avoid. From panic attacks triggered by water rushing over my ears as I wash my hair, to the sight of pools and large bodies of water reinstating the fear I have of them. Nothing serves as a reminder greater than the nightmares that come. The nightmares that leave you gasping for air as you wake up soaked, but not in water, in your own sweat or your own urine. The fear I have for water is crippling, yet it is somehow what I crave. The terror that heals and awakens, the sound of water rushing can be so calming.

In times of darkness, sadness and when I am down and broken. When my PTSD and Borderline Personality Disorder have broken my soul, I turn to water. I watch and listen to the water; it awakens that true fear that I hold. It reminds me that I am alive, that I can breathe, that although I may feel trapped; I am not. I have found the acceptance that water is not here to hurt me, it is here to save me. Water has shown me how to tame the roaring emotions and turmoil that live within me. To let it flow and let the darkness out. Although things may be daunting, it does not mean that they are not beautiful.

The photograph I chose is one that I took at the Rideau Falls in Ottawa. I chose this photo as it captures both the calm and the chaos that water portrays itself in. I took this photo with my Motorola G7 Power, I enlarged the size by uploading it to my laptop and zooming in and using the enlarge image feature. Looking at this photo, I can hear the water rushing, it is almost deafening. The sloshing sound of the water rushing in from one river and into another as they blend to become one. The distant patter of the mini waterfalls that have formed through years of erosion. This photo not only reminds me of the location, but it is my reminder that moving water does not freeze. If I follow suit and continue to fight, I too will live long enough to see my scars as erosion. Through the splashes and misty sprays, bodies of water will always remind me of where I have come from, and where I have yet to go.

I did not edit the colours in this photograph as nature to me is only as beautiful as you capture it. I cannot edit the memories, the fear and trauma. If I wish for my soul to be as peaceful and beautiful as these natural bodies of water. It must remain untouched, unrefined, only changed through its natural evolvement.