Breathing

I sometimes do this thing, when i get really low i like to run myself a nice warm bath and while i sit there letting the water calm me. I hold my head under the surface.
I keep it there till my lungs screech and my head feels like its about to explode before i pull myself up gasping for air with water spewing out of my nose and my heart beating with such ferocity that i can see each convulsion like a punch on my chest.
I’m not trying to kill myself, quite the opposite. I need my mind to tell me that it wants to live, that’s when i allow myself to breath again.
One day i might not come up again because i may never reach the point where my mind and body both agree that survival is all that matters.
I may survive but I don’t believe i have ever lived, this is the thought that ties weights around my ankles and pushes my into the depths.
It’s thoughts of my family that cut the ropes and force air into my starving lungs.
Just because you breath doesn’t mean your alive.