When I was younger, I was faced with an odd dilemma. I loved the ocean. I grew up on an island, always close to the sea and I ran frequently to climb the dunes by the beach. The ocean was so very vast, filled with dreams and adventures. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore, deep and calming. I was terrified of drowning however, which put me in an awfully difficult situation.
I had nightmares very often as a child and those dreams were almost always dreams about me on a giant ship that sank. I don’t remember drowning in any of those dreams, but I remember seeing people die all around me and the cold, blackish water swallowing up all that it could. I remember the screams and the silence that followed – a silence far more frightening than the screams had been. This is not the only reason I was afraid of water, but it is probably one of them. The other I will talk about another day.
When I was growing up, I never got seasick, not even during the worst of storms. The only time I ever got seasick was on a 14-hour journey, but no one else got seasick. The sea was calm, and I think people thought me quite weak. When we had to go home again, a storm hit, and the journey ended up taking more than 30-hours. I did not feel any hint of seasickness during those hours, even though this time most of the others felt quite queasy.
The last few years have changed all that and now I do get seasick if the waters are calm. I prefer smaller things, like canoes and kayaking. They never give me any hint of seasickness, and I love being so close to the water.
Because I was afraid of drowning, I never went swimming. I was so afraid that, when all the other children in my class learned to swim in school, I was exempted and simply stood in the low end of the water without moving. No one ever tried to help me overcome my fear, but to be honest, I don’t remember any kind teachers growing up. There might have been, I just don’t remember them.
All I remember is teachers constantly accusing me of cheating in classes and telling me I was stupid. I never cheated, and I stopped raising my hand in class early on because I was afraid of the teachers ridiculing me in front of everyone else. I stopped making an effort with homework, because I was always accused of cheating because I was too stupid to have done it on my own. So, even though I wanted to overcome my fear of water and learn how to swim, I never asked for help. I was too afraid and to this day, I don’t swim well at all. I taught myself as best I could.
Even though I never learned to swim properly it never stopped me from going kayaking or canoeing, and I have spend many lovely days immersed in such activities.
When I was in high school the first time (I dropped out in my second year, moved away to a different island and started over) I didn’t have many friends. Everyone in my class were much smarter than I was, and they never let an opportunity to show this go by.
A few people were, like me, not very clever but only average and I think they all felt as excluded as I did. They had friends outside of high school, attending different schools or working instead, and therefore never felt entirely lonely, I hope. I didn’t get on with very many, but there were a few people who all took the same train as I did. I tried desperately to utilize the time on the train every day to become their friend, but it was difficult.
There was a guy in my class who dated one of the girls from the train, and it turned out he and I got along relatively well. Even after he stopped dating the girl we still talked and as a result, I felt less lonely. I think he thought I was entertaining because I was ‘eccentric’ and I am not at all sure if we laughed together or if he was just laughing at me. I choose to remember him as friend, nonetheless. I shall hereafter call him Mr. Push for reasons you will soon discover.
I was about 17, I think. I was still afraid of drowning – or some may call it afraid of water, and yet, loved the ocean. Mr. Push knew, and while we were on a trip to visit some family, he was determined to go swimming with me. I didn’t mind if I could stay close to the beach and go no further out than waist high water. Unfortunately, my family’s house was by a small inlet with nothing close to resembling a beach. The water was of an indeterminable height, but it looked to be just under two meters. I would soon realise exactly how deep it was.
As matters were, I had no intention of swimming, but told Mr. Push that he could swim and I would sit on the jetty and dip my feet in water. He agreed happily, and we brought towels and everything else that was needed down to the jetty. We put the things down beside us and stood on the jetty, looking into the murky water trying to judge the depth and cleanness of it. The weather was lovely that day, sunshine and no clouds.
Now, I feel I should make it perfectly clear that I know he never had any trace of ill intent, he never wanted to hurt me or anything like that. I know that in my mind and in my heart. Mr. Push simply wanted to cure me of my fear of drowning – or water, as it were. You can guess what he did, can’t you? He pushed me in.
The surprise was perhaps the worst part. My mind was screaming like it almost never had before, not because of the fear of the water, but because of the feeling of betrayal and surprise. I hate surprises to an unimaginable extent.
The water was warm. The sand shifted under my feet as I struggled to find a place to stand and felt more like quicksand than anything else – constantly denying me safety. My head was bobbing up and down just over the water. I don’t remember if I was screaming or talking, but I remember my throat feeling dry and sore for some reason. It was such a strange contrast from the wet water around me, I don’t think I can ever forget it.
Mr. Push was standing on the jetty, laughing and grinning down at me while I struggled, not once showing any signs of wanting to help me. I remember for a moment, while in the water, looking up at his face and just for a second thinking he intended me to die. I know he didn’t, but I can’t read faces, so I had no chance of deciding if I saw worry, happiness or malice in his eyes. I remember the fear in my heart as I looked up on his laughing face and that colours my memories, as you might know.
In time, I don’t know how long, I got more relaxed and found a place I could stand. I was fine. I was okay. I said something to him as I got out of the water, I don’t remember what, but he answered that I was never in any danger, because the water was not too high. I tried to laugh as well and pretend it was all good fun, but something in me had broken. I could never look at him again and see a friend. In time, I could hardly look at him at all. He never apologised or even recognised how that moment pushed me far beyond all my limits.
I am not very afraid of water now, even if I am still worried about the idea of drowning. If at all avoidable, I will do my best to not have my life end in that particular way. I am still not a very good swimmer, because I never had the courage to ask for help after that. Also, bear in mind, I never asked for his help in the first place. I would love to learn to swim though. Maybe one day I’ll find my courage.
You see, even though I wanted to change, I wasn’t ready. It wasn’t just uncertainty, it was the actual change itself. Over the course of this month with this challenge, I have often found myself re-living that particular moment and I knew I wanted to write about it and the effect it had on my life. I think I have learned something quite wonderful from this experiment and it wasn’t what I thought it would be.
I said in an old post that sometimes we all need a push, and I still believe that. I think, however, that we need to be ready first. If we are not ready, that push can do much more damage than good. This challenge is not something I want to do again any time soon. Over the weeks I have experienced an increase in my meltdowns and it has been, in every way possible sense of the word, a horrible experience.
I am still happy I did this, though. I feel I am better able to handle my meltdowns than I ever was, and I also feel more comfortable with the idea of trying something new. I can feel myself grow more adventures and want to try new things once in a while.
Most of the things I tasted or tried were not pleasant, and often I was not able to finish it all. The worst of those experiences were the ones that surprised me. I really don’t like surprises at all, especially not when it comes to food or drink. It is difficult enough for me to eat as it is.
But, I did find out that I can deal better with drinking something new than I can with eating something new, which is interesting. I might be able to get a juice, if there’s nothing I can eat and that is helpful knowledge for me.
I must also admit, eating is worse than ever for me after this challenge. As I mentioned, we have to be ready and I wasn’t ready for this much new food and snacks. I am less able to eat than I have been in a long time, and I will have to take care to eat during these coming weeks. I have no idea how long this extreme sensitivity to food will last, because I have had it before and it can last a day, a week or a month. I just don’t know. It often happens when I’m overstimulated, but I’ll talk more about this in a later post.
I feel more comfortable writing this blog, posting pictures and such after this last month. I don’t like new things, obviously. This last month was bad, yes, but it clearly had some positive effects too. I think it was worth it and I feel stronger for having gone through it – now I am sure I can do more than I thought! As long as I remember respecting my own limits.
We all need to remember that if we don’t want to harm ourselves, and I feel certain we can grow without pain – even if pain is a great teacher. It doesn’t have to be the teacher we chose.
These are the different things I tried over the past month. You can also see them on my instagram.
