I often joke about my mental health. Every time someone asks me if I’m okay I respond with something witty without thinking. My body’s natural instinct is to make a situation lighter to protect myself. If I laugh I can’t cry, if I laugh to the point of gasping for air then maybe my body will confuse it for a sob and my chest will stop feeling like it’s filling up with water instead of oxygen. I was never taught how to swim so on rough days when I start drowning I can’t do anything but flail. So far I’ve managed to keep my head above water but what happens when my legs and arms get tired? Who’s going to throw me a line and pull me out of the water? Most of the time I feel lonely on land but when I’m drowning I realize just how empty the ocean can be. When I was four my mother left my sister in charge of me. I walked into the pool without my water wings and almost drowned. A crowd of adults surrounded the water but it was my sister that jumped in to save me. It was in that moment that the world showed its true colours. An eight year old risked her life to save me and my mother barely made a fuss. That was the last time anyone ever saw me drowning. I no longer have my sister to jump in and save me. Over the years her sights have switched to someone new and life has caught me yet again unaccompanied. I don’t have any water wings to keep me afloat so I just keep thrashing and choking and praying to god someone will see me going under. But what if this time nobody ever does?