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Flying out of control, everything spinning, I was losing my grip.

There was nothing to focus on. There were too many things to focus on.

Trying to prioritize didn't help. Everything else immediately overwhelmed whatever task I tried to do. Just a week ago, I was at rest. In bed, trying to find a moment of peace. It didn't last. It never does.

It was gone again. An unknown future rushed at me. I couldn't get a handle on anything. I couldn't slow myself down.

Too much was happening. I couldn't take it all in. I had to take it all in.

I needed to survive. But it was hopeless. Everything was changing too fast.

I hit the surface. The shock stopped my breathing. But there was no rest. Not even there.

I started to sink. The world rose up around me. The surface receded upwards.

I couldn't breathe. The light was disappearing. My world was shattered. Everything I had was gone.

I was surrounded by nothing I recognized. I couldn't orient myself. Slowly I drifted to the bottom.

It was dark. It was still. I could see the surface far above, lights flickering. So far out of reach.

I couldn't breathe. Yet I was there. Thinking in the dark. Everything was lost. Everything but me.

I still had myself. Maybe I didn't need oxygen. Maybe I didn't need my old home. Was that my new home? I didn't seem to have a choice in the matter. I would have to make that my new home. I would have to get used to not breathing. I would have to get used to waves of light dancing far above me.

It wasn't something I ever wanted. It wasn't even something I never wanted. It was something I'd never thought of. Yet there I was, wondering how I got there. How did I manage to get anywhere?

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