Troubled waters

I think I'm on the verge of a breakdown. I feel nervous. I feel things slipping away. I really feel something creeping up and knocking and starting the pound on the walls of head and heart. Something's there, and it's burgeoning and growing inside and it's scaring me. I'm hardly ever scared of anything. Most things in life, I face with confidence, even a certain arrogance, because I've been able to handle most things in my life. Sure, there's always apprehension in the things I face, but right now, I feel something that I've never really felt before. It's the indescribable feeling in my heart, like a hole or a drain or something. A black hole drifting inside of me, sucking and tearing asunder everything in its path. It's not depression. I've felt depression before. I still have hope, but it's like the hope of bobbing above the choppy waters in a hurricane. I hope that there will be a rescue boat, a beacon, a break in the storm, but with each wave that comes crashing down on me, the hope is dampened and the fear starts to set in. I suppose that's probably the best way to describe myself right now: I'm still hopeful, still clinging to whatever I have left, but it's pretty rapidly fading and I feel it slipping away with each moment.

I'm really, really scared, and I haven't been that way in a while. I need something, someone to bail me out here. I don't know if I'm really that connected with anyone any more, but if someone thinks they can help, or offer advice or anything, I would appreciate it I guess. My main point is that I need someone to help me face the burden. I think I can shoulder it, I just need someone to pat me on the back and let me know that it's alright. I don't know. Perhaps is a longing for that feeling that someone can shelter me when things go wrong? Who knows. I feel like I'm screaming at the top of my lungs in a crowded room and no one can hear me. I'm sure I've said that before, but it's still true today.