They say Silent Hill brings out the worst in you.
Some of you may know that I’m a certified open-water diver, and as such—I know what its like to be underwater. My training keeps me on my toes, prepared for any sort of equipment malfunction possible at eighty feet under and teaches me how to get myself safe if it does—scuba diving can result in all sorts of horrible, deadly injuries, and a single misstep can cost you your life. Even with all that, even with the time I forgot to put my regulator in my mouth before descending to the bottom of the pool and sucking in a mouthful of water, I have never felt like I was in danger in the water.
Recently though, my emotions have been… overwhelming. I have awful social anxiety that often makes going to class a worrisome, emotionally taxing event—combined with my family’s wildly varying levels of support and near-constant self loathing, I quickly found myself losing my grip. And for the first time in my life, I felt like I was drowning.
That’s what this creature represents in my psyche. Blind, crippled, the one thing it should be able to count on to keep it alive is filling its lungs with bile, suffocating it on dry land.
And it blames you.