|The Life of The Lost Girl: a creative fictional diary, sometimes based on certain factual truths.|
I've been lost for sometime now—the whirlpool of depression pulling me further down the void. I found myself coughing and spluttering as I pulled myself up from the heavy waves that have drowned my existence. I found myself able to move again, to float, and it was time for me to swim back to shore.
My muscles were weak, each stroke to the surface paining me, but I told myself I couldn't drown like that again so I pushed further. Each breath caused my lungs to tighten as if the smallest amount of air was too heavy to consume, pinning them. I started choking. I had held my breath for too long—I forgot how to breathe.