One time, in my early teenage years, I went to a water park with my Aunt and her family. We were having fun in the wave pool, until I found myself drifting to the deep end. My mediocre swimming abilities became quite apparent very quickly. I could no longer reach the bottom, and the waves were so large, I couldn’t seem to keep my head above long enough to swim to the edge.
I remember thinking, “I’m going to drown. No one is helping me. Please someone. Turn off the waves. Someone please grab me.” Wave after wave, I could feel my body exhausting, and the fear increasing. At this point I was trying to time it so I could try to get a breathe of air between waves.
I hear yelling and think someone is yelling to help me. Then I see glimpses of the life guards. They aren’t trying to get someone to help me, they are yelling at me. I was in the area that made the waves, and they were yelling at me that I needed to get out of this area. They thought it was on purpose, and obviously, did not realize I was in crisis.
The waves started to calm, and I quickly swam to the side. I looked around for some sort of comfort or concern, and no one seemed to even notice this occurrence happened. Laughter, joy, happiness, and enjoyment were all around me. This place or terror to me, was a relaxing, enjoyable place for everyone else.
It was probably 2-3 min total. A very small amount of time. Yet I can remember every moment. I felt upset, embarrassed, angry, and tired. How could no one have noticed me? What if they did? What idiot almost drowns in a wave pool? Should I tell anyone? Play this off? I need to lay down. And for goodness sake please don’t cry. Stop crying. You’re so ridiculous Beth.
This is how my life felt every day for 4 years. I was drowning. I was not able to keep my head above the harsh waves. What was just life, work, family, school, etc, was chaos for me. In a constant state of terror and exhaustion. While others were finding joy and excitement doing the same things as me, I was feeling as if I wouldn’t survive. There were many around, but I went unnoticed by most. My struggle was interpreted by others as intentional, or maybe even deserved. I was so weak. Panicking. Waiting for that brief break in chaos and hysteria for a breathe. Slowly realizing help was not coming and I just needed to survive long enough to get somewhere where I could hold on.
And then came the calm. With one last burst of energy, I found my way to safety. Not out of the water, but able to breathe. Looking around for some sort of acknowledgement of my struggle and pain. Feeling embarrassed I could let my life get so out of control. Feeling angry I was unnoticed by so many. Feeling jealous of those who were enjoying life. Feeling bitter toward those who added to my struggle, those who didn’t have the same struggle and I felt deserved it also. Feeling guilty for being so needy for help, like a burden. I was left with everything stripped from me. My confidence, pride, and joy were gone.
Now, I was not nearly as alone as I felt. I did have some very kind friends and family that showed me compassion and concern. But I could not expect others to put themselves in the “danger zone” with me, or they could drown too. They had to help the best they could from where they were at in life. I am thankful daily for this, but I still felt alone an fearful.
Yet, I did survive. Like the wave pool, I am very aware of every moment of this struggle. But what happened after the pool experience? Did I decide to never enjoy a pool or water again? Did I become fearful of any risk of losing control? Absolutely not. That’s not Beth. So I live life, with a deep respect for what can happen, but with complete, honest, love for where I am now. I will always know how helpless it can be, how broken down I can become. And I make a conscious effort to open my eyes for others that may be drowning in life, even if all I can offer is some care when they finally find their calm.
thatbethy 