Alone

Today at the lake it was miserable. Cold, grey, and wet. I thought it was drizzling, but when I left my house I realized it was actually raining. I didn’t care.

First I stopped by the closest beach, just down the road. There was nobody in the water, and two guys just hanging around. I didn’t feel safe, so drove to my other beach. Still nobody swimming and only a few people wandering on the trails with umbrellas.

When I started this I promised myself and my parents that I wouldn’t swim if nobody was with me or the area was empty, but I was really crazy to get into the water. It’s a release valve. It’s my only chance at feeling relaxed, safe, with nothing on my mind. And badass for willingly diving into really cold water.

So I did it. I tried to talk myself out of it as I was stripping down to my suit on the beach, but I couldn’t. The water was calling me. This time the water was quite cold, and I didn’t adapt in a couple minutes. Parts of me were cold or aware of the cold the entire time I was in the water. At the same time, the water felt amazing. Refreshing.

I’ve been skimming articles on the health benefits of open swimming and cold swimming, and while I have no desire to swim in ice-cold waters, I do hope I can continue swimming through the winter here. Looking into wetsuits. And a neoprene cap and gloves.

There are tiny shells on the bottom of the lake, still attached at one side but open like a sandwich. I see them everywhere and get fooled because they are always mostly filled with sand, so I think I see a perfect pair of silver chunky hoop earrings. I keep getting fooled. I think the sea is telling me I need some new earrings or at least to start wearing them again. Between Covid lockdown and the mess that is my mental health, I have’t even been wearing earrings for so long. Like I don’t even know if I wore earrings during grad school. Those five years and the past sucky one are a blur of weight gain, bad clothes, worse self haircuts, and not opening mail, changing bed sheets, or cleaning.

The water was incredible. I just kept swimming back and forth across the swim area, only sometimes ending up in a place I didn’t expect. For some reason today, despite the wind and waves, I was pretty good at navigating. I was gliding through the water, wishing I’d find treasure and recognising that the icky orange/gold dead-ish seaweed doesn’t bother me as much as it used to. I was in deeper water today, so couldn’t really see if Mr. Big was down at the bottom. It would be cooler to see a salmon.

I got out of the water but not because I wanted to. It just seemed smarter to end before I got tired or it got darker. Of course, as I leave the water and get to my towel there’s still nobody around, except for the two guys in hats, sitting under the picnic shelter smoking cigs. And this is why I can’t do this again. They didn’t kill me. I got my stuff and left quickly, making a note to myself to buy a spear gun. But that’s the sucky thing about being a woman. It’s not safe to be in any isolated place. It enrages me. Pretty sick of always having to think of all the ways I need to be safe. Why do some men seek out women to hurt and kill? I’m exhausted. I really want to go live on that island in Estonia populated by old women who ride around on golf carts.

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