Onward!

Today at the lake it was windy and c-c-cold. 

I met with K5, who I haven’t seen in two weeks. Always nice to swim with her. She just started this winter, and was smart to buy thermal gear. I’m always impressed with how she is in the water and unafraid, just figuring it out as she goes. It is no small thing to start swimming in winter.

The waves turned out to be stronger than they looked, so swimming was challenging. I did lots of bobbing and running in place in the deep water. I also tried to swim a bit. Just couldn’t go very fast or always in the direction I wanted. 

Happy Place

The sun was out, though, so I was able to swim into my sunbeam tunnel, which is really one of the best things I’ve never done. People tell me they don’t want to try this because it seems like a lot of work for 20 min in the water. I get that, especially for people who have jobs and kids and homes to take care of. But for me, it is what I live for. 

Those 20 minutes are timeless in a way and priceless. When else can I be so relaxed and engaged at the same time. I am not great at meditating, but my swims, or parts of them, can be quite meditative. Floating is amazing in a wetsuit. It’s the only time I can feel everything in my body let go. A shock of cold water to my face triggers my nervous system into calm. It’s called the “dive reflex.” It is a real thing. It is actually everything to me. 

When I’m in the water I feel safe, even when the water is rough. I feel able, alert, awake, connected to myself, connected to nature, connected to the essence of what makes me me. I sometimes feel strong. Sometimes mystified. Always curious. Maybe happy. That is not a word I have even known how to think about for so long. But yea, happy. Free. It’s worth it. It’s like finishing a long run, having fab sex, drinking superb tea, hearing my favorite poem, and surviving finals week all rolled up into a splashy, wet, workout. It’s so f-ing worth every minute and dollar I put into it. Always. 

Progress

I am still struggling with depression and PTSD, but I am fairly convinced that the improvements are at least partially down to my swims. I haven’t had a full-blown panic attack in months. The other day I was walking with a friend and a dog came running out of a house at us. I started going into freak out mode (freezing and raising my hands up around my head), but for some reason I was able to tell myself I was ok. The dog didn’t bark, and I saw it coming and it wasn’t very big. I don’t really understand how it all works, but for whatever reason, nothing bad happened and I quickly assessed the situation. That terror switch didn’t get flipped. That is HUGE. Incredible! A year ago the same thing happened with a larger, barking dog and I lost my shit in the street. Complete attack. Public. Screaming. Crying. Frozen in place. Could not breathe. Icky. 

I think having my nervous system calmed twice a week in the cold water is helping. I stumbled in the mud the other day, another thing that has sent me into an attack in the past, but I didn’t fall or freak out. Like with the dog, I started getting into the position, but the blinding terror thing didn’t overtake me. It wasn’t there. It helped that I was with my aide, and she took my arm and told me, “You didn’t fall. You are ok.” It’s like a miracle.

I still have weird, crippling waves of panic every day. They are vague and come out of nowhere. Sometimes they last a few minutes, sometimes hours. Again, I don’t really understand them. I also don’t know what causes them because I’m never doing or thinking anything that I think would be triggering. It’s like this residue of terror just won’t let go. I hate it. It’s exhausting and humiliating. I haven’t lived my life up to now as a fearful person, but these waves scare the crap out of me. The big attacks have stopped, but it’s like the force behind them has morphed into a different place in my body/brain. Kind of like a cat that knows you don’t want it around you so it walks really close to you, then when you think it has passed you it flicks it’s tail to touch your leg. I f-ing hate cats, and the subterranean PTSD bs is like the most evil cat. 

When these waves come over me it feels like I’m afraid of everything and frozen in place. I can’t see a way out, and everything on my “to do” list seems terrifying. The future, whether it’s an appointment the next day or thinking about old age, feels treacherous, ominous, so gigantic, impossible. Devastating. After, not that there is a distinct “it’s happening” and “it’s over,” I feel like I’m in that weird post-dream phase where I’m not sure if I’m in real life or the dream. The fear stays, and the only thing I know to do is watch a movie to distract myself. 

When I’m in the water, nothing in my life stays in my head. The water and the neoprene keep me afloat. It’s magic how empty I can get. After my swim, I feel like things are possible. I feel more creative. I feel braver. I want to try. 

WTF must it be like for veterans, victims of violent crimes, etc.? None of the things that happened to me compare. 

Wacky!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Also, ONWARD!!! (thank you to my friend who taught me that expression. You know who you are.) Peace. Love. It’s April.