Drowning

A short story

Depression. Stress. Anxiety.

They all connect to each other, apparently. It always feels like three different cords, wrapped around places of the heart. When one gets pulled, they all get pulled—ripping at your heart in three different areas. It’s a gruesome game of tug-of-war. Which side will win?

Would it be depression: the constant weights that try to bury you under the Earth? Or maybe stress: the overwhelming demands and unreachable expectations. But nobody can forget anxiety: the panic that never ends—its constant flow that runs up and down your body. Never. Allowing. Rest.

For Vicky, this was the only life she knew. The repeated cycle of combating the three little imps—it was her long and tiring war. What could she turn to for help? The physical could only give so much—a temporary high, exciting, feeling that quickly resulted in an automatic crash.

Who would hold her? Too many people left. And too many people stayed—only to smile at her misery. It was painful to believe that there were actual humans out there … that had no humanity. No compassion. At least, not for her. Not for Vicky.

Nobody was there to guide her mentally. To help tame her lonely, cold thoughts. No one was there to emotionally keep her together. Her mental and emotional state could only get so far.

But what else was there?

Vicky thought about this, the way she always did. On the bathroom floor, with her back against the wall—listening to some emo rapper yelling about his pain. Vicky wanted to scream, but the artist seemed to do it for her. She sat there for what felt like hours, allowing the music to sink heavily into her soul.

The words bounced across her hollow heart while bombarding her weary mind with an endless stream of bad memories. Vicky waited for a change, a moment of relief, but none came. Except the voices in her mind that no high volume of music could deafen.

Alone. Forsaken. Mistaken.

Suddenly, she pushed herself up to her feet, her body feeling too heavy for herself to carry. For a moment, Vicky leaned over the counter and slowly lifted her head. The reflection in the mirror was nearly unrecognizable. Who was this girl looking back at Vicky? Because she didn’t know. Or maybe she didn’t want to know. Quickly, Vicky stumbled away from the counter—retreating to her bedroom. The music rang loud and clear—wrestling with the thoughts that spilled in and out of her mind.

You have to get it right. You’re stuck like this. You have to do better.

Vicky stood idly in her dark bedroom. The shadows on the walls followed her pacing steps. The demons of Vicky’s past, present, and future, were all pricking at her vulnerable heart. Every fearful thought of what was, is, and could be, pulled and tied Vicky up in a helpless downward spiral of chaos. She gripped her hair, groaning and moaning in her desperation. What else was there? Who could help her?

Naturally, Vicky’s eyes fell on her dusty nightstand where her neglected Bible laid. But what would God do to her? Vicky didn’t want to be “fixed” by anybody but herself. And at that point, her eternal destination seemed too far away to worry about. Yet, Vicky’s fingers wrapped around the leather-bound book. But sudden nausea swept into Vicky’s stomach, sending her down backward and onto her bed.

What else was there?

The tears finally came. As they poured, her body shook, her heart raced. The fear of staying trapped forever entangled in the inner depths of her mind.

One, two, three—Depression. Stress. Anxiety.

All four evil imps pulled their cords. And like a puppet, Vicky fell through. Down she went, into the ocean of endless tears. The cold water numbed her body and stabbed her heart. Vicky let herself be dragged down by the pulling cords, down into the darkness. She watched the bubbles of her last breath float away, the struggle coming to a close end.

Ashamed. Afraid. Alone. Nothing. Worthless. A burden. You can’t. The world is better off.

The three voices all merged into one, the tugs on her heart overpowering Vicky completely. She blinked, her lungs swelled—by the ocean of words—and prepared to burst. Until a different voice spoke.

I’m sorry.

Vicky choked. Her arms jerked in shock and surprise. She suddenly could feel herself drowning.

I love you.

What? Vicky struggled to move, the new and unfamiliar words awaking her nerves. The resistance of her cords strengthened, as a sudden light appeared.

I’m sorry.

The source beamed through the dark, murky water. Vicky felt its gentle glow touch her fingertips, causing a sudden surge of warmth to soar through her. She gasped, but couldn’t breathe. Vicky kicked her legs and treaded her arms. She just wanted to feel that light. And when Vicky’s whole arm reached in…

Original digital artwork

You are okay. You are loved.

The cords tugged, but Vicky fought. She went up and up, chasing this light—fighting for another breath in her lungs. You matter. You are beautiful. She climbed higher, feeling the paralysis fade and the feeling of something new entering.

Hope.

One cord clipped away, the weight of it giving Vicky an extra boost of strength. You can have peace. You don’t have to do this alone. Vicky clawed the water like she never did before. Almost instantly, something snapped loose. It was another cord. Vicky’s heart pumped a couple of extra beats. Her legs felt free to kick a little harder, as the light grew bigger.

You don’t have to be afraid. I am your Peace. I am your Protection. I am Your Savior.

Woosh! The final cord broke, just as Vicky broke the surface. Her body jerked up and over—right off her bed. Falling onto her knees, she coughed and gasped. The morning sunlight spilled through Vicky’s bedroom window, shining on her beautifully tearful face.

She inhaled sharply, tears dripping off her chin, as the realization sunk in—she could breathe! Vicky breathed in and out, slightly laughing at how her heart felt relief. It was there. It was real. It was possible.

But how?

Vicky glanced at the neglected book that fell on the floor. Her heart exploded in joy once she realized the answer: it was spiritual.

“Jesus,” she whispered. It was the first word she ever spoke in a long time. “I need you!”

Vicky cried, prayed, and allowed her Savior to take His place in her heart. This Light of truth pulled her out of darkness and into His beautiful light. Jesus Christ, the one who resurrected her from death and into life. Who broke the bonds of depression, stress, and anxiety, with His love, protection, and peace.

Jesus, the one who saw Vicky in her sufferings. The one who cried with her and said, “I’m sorry” when no one else did. Who went in when she was alone, and eternally lifted her above the lives of the world. Jesus, the one that pulled Vicky up from the waters and made her reborn as …

Victory.

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Foundation Scripture:

“And you, being dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, He has made Alive together with Him, having forgiven you all trespasses, having wiped out the handwriting of requirements that was against us, which was contrary to us. And He has taken it out of the way, having nailed it to the cross. Having disarmed principalities and powers, He made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them in it.

Colossians 2:13-15 NKJV

Personal Thoughts:

As I’m typing my thoughts about this story, I keep deleting each sentence. It’s hard to get personal and it’s hard to be honest. What can I say? What should I say? Well, I’ll say that this story is really a fictionalized testimony of how the Lord really came into my life. (Yes, I really did have those bathroom moments where I was listening to “some emo rapper yell about his feelings” haha).

There’s more details to my testimony—of course—but I think everyone here can relate to those battles of depression, stress, and anxiety in some shape or form. At some point, we all come to that moment when we are sinking or just barely able to keep our heads above the waters. There are so many voices out in the world, it can be so hard to hear what the Holy Spirit is saying or what is truth.

My dear readers, I’m here to tell you that you are not alone. People will always hurt you, but the Heavenly Father will not. He will be the one to fill the voids and holes that others created. The devil will always lie to you, and try pulling you away from God. But the Lord triumphed over every principality and power that tries to keep you down. We’ve all experienced pain, but it’s the assurance of God’s redemption that gives us a reason to shine everyday. Jesus Christ finished it all on the cross, He took it all the pain away for you and for me … we just have to receive Him, His Salvation, and His Healing. We have to fight those waters, reach for our Savior and be reborn.

Because we all Need Him.

Thank you all so much for reading, I pray this encourages you to take time to bask in the Light of the Saviors love and glory. Also, I hope yall liked the artwork! I had to fight time to get it done, haha. God Bless!

~Merissa Nicole

P.S. I used to listen to secular rap (before God totally transformed me) and I kept away from all forms of rap for a long time. But God brought me to one song in particular (sometime last year) and is the inspiration of this story that holds a strong testimony. “I’m Sorry” is by Christian hip hop/rap artist, Zauntee (amazing man of God!) and this song always felt like the voice of the Father reaching in to minister to those wounded places. I encourage everyone to give it a listen!