My next post on swimming went something like this:
Per
the instructions of my teacher and my family/friends, I am trying to accentuate
the positive and eliminate the negative.
I am still alive. That's positive.
My voice was only lost
for a few hours the next day. The discomfort and burning from the chlorine
is completely gone now, a little over 36 hours later. Cough drops help a
lot. So does a steaming cup of hot lime jello. In fact, I may have
more when I get home from work.
I went straight for
the wall, but I did NOT get out. I stayed in the water. For another
half hour, as a matter of fact. I was waiting for Becca to jump in.
And although she waited until someone was less than a foot away from her, she
did actually jump in as well. Even though we were both crying and scared,
we did it. Her crying beforehand, mine afterwards, but fear did not stop
either one of us.
Due to me freaking
out, she is now scared to let me catch her, but I understand that. Due to
our visitation schedule, she may not go in the pool again with me this summer,
unless we go one more day in late August. But that's okay.
This is going to be
slower than I thought. I melted down in the water, and I hate the idea
more than I did Sunday morning. But we did it. I was told that even
though I couldn't think straight, my body knew to kick and fight to get to the
surface. I don't remember kicking. I was told I was reaching for
it, but all I know is I should've held my nose longer because my sinuses burned
like a bitch.
Sorry.
Positive. My nasal congestion is nearly cleared up today. I know
now that my life vest really does work, though not as fast as I wish it
did.
In church, one of the
hymns we sang had a line about God sanctifying our deepest distress. I
really thought about that a lot before we even went to the pool, and I think it
has to do with gaining strength from adversity. To sanctify something is
to make it sacred. Nothing says that the distress is going to go away...
I've been thinking that there's a way for me to make my fear disappear, but
maybe there isn't. The very act of throwing myself off of the safety of
the concrete and trusting that the vest was going to bring me back to the
surface took everything I had, and the minute my feet were in the air, I was
terrified.
I. Really. Am. Going. To.
Fall. In. Oh. Hell.
Positive: even though
I couldn't tell which way was up, I got to the surface. The vest
knew. My body knew, so I'm told. I don't know how. But
apparently forces stronger than I am took over. I don't want that.
I want to know what happened, what I did, so I can do it next time and do it
myself.
The background color
of my desktop is the same blue as the pool. I stare at it, and it's not
terrifying anymore. It's just blue. Outside of pools, I actually
love that color. An uneasy truce ensues... It's more than I've ever done before.
And whether it was all roses or not, that is still progress. So be
it. I jumped in the deep end. And someday soon, I will again.
Because I'm just that crazy.
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