The Dam

A metaphor.

The Dam

“Knock knock knock”. 

     An ominous onomatopoeia, jarring to the bone. There you sit, tasks at hand, and a knocking at your door. 

Do you let it in? 

God no!

Could curiosity really kill the cat? The unpropitious noise rattling in your head, knocking against the walls, knocking over your well put thoughts. Silence is so loud! The abyss of nothing surrounds you, craving to catch you and never let go. The knocks were your savior and now the silence will swallow you whole- no, it can’t be ignored. The three simple raps have cracked open your dam. 

     How could this happen? How could it be? Not even the biggest blows of late cause a scratch in the carefully articulated dam. No, no, no! It can’t be, it can’t crack, it can’t burst. If it breaks, the dark waters will spill out and the heinous liquid will flow, swell, and drown. It will drown you, filling your lungs as fast and simple as air. As much as you thrash and struggle, you won’t be able to escape. 

Here it comes.

Try as you might, you never learned to swim. A lesson that could be taught, or ignored. The latter chosen for the sake of ease. Dark waters are a pain to watch someone struggle in, especially if one’s version of swimming was self taught, made of nothing but flailing in the unyielding waves to barely keep afloat. Now, you wish someone had at least taught you to flail.

     It surrounds you, cold and unforgiving. The happiness you once had is washed away, replaced by the grasping hands masked by the water that hold the thoughts you wished to ignore, the thoughts you know can only be accompanied by a feeling of suffocation. No, you cannot breath, you cannot see, you cannot feel.  The only thing you’re aware of are the white knuckled hands grasping you, the crushing weight on your chest, and knowing that this will never end. 

     You were never taught to swim. Never taught to navigate these waters, the waters that instill fear. They’re thick and murky, holding a different horror for every person. The smallest noise, the smallest taps put the crack in the dam that was already under immense pressure. The more you ignore, the more pressure you add, and soon that dam breaks open to reveal what you feared the most. A personalized nightmare that is fed by you, and you alone. See, the dam was empty and dry when you began this life, you supplied the water. What they never taught you, and what most don’t know; you don’t need to keep afloat. 

     You control the waves. Let them wash over you, give them the recognition they desire and need. Let them have a place in you that isn’t locked, for a lock could always be broken, as the dam was. This dam, this tumultuous water, these nightmares- they’re self made. Instead of drowning, grasp the hands that claw at you. Reassure them, face them. Once you can do this act, you’ll stand taller. The pressure will be relieved and the fear maintained. 

     To swim is to maintain the facade that you cannot do anything about the things that drown you, the things that contribute to the pressure. Swimming is simply surviving. Accepting and facing is the next step to living. 

“Knock, knock, knock.”

Answer the door, your water is kept at bay.

Reviews

[lauren]

“Hi! I recently came across your work and really enjoyed your approach to character voice and interaction. I’m working on a fantasy graphic novel set in a protected woodland world filled with unique creatures and personality-driven storytelling. Right now I’m mainly looking for someone to help shape engaging dialogue and memorable character moments. If interested, feel free to reach out on Discord: laurendoesitall or Instagram: lizziedoesitall.”