Solstice Swim

Today at the lake…I tried a new beach for a 7pm solstice swim. M took me, and it only took about 25 min to get there, no traffic, so now I know how to get there. 

We arrived and everyone else was already in their gear and making their way to the beach. I found a place on the beach to get my gear on, but the group left without me. I guess that is how they roll. And they all know each other. I guess this is the Seattle way and the swim group way. I rushed my prep, then didn’t have time to do my acclimation exercises, so I ended up in the deep water, trying to find the group, and realizing  I had a few leaks from putting on my gear too fast. My hood bib wasn’t all the way tucked under the neck of my wetsuit.

My ears were cold, and I felt dizzy. It was not going to be a good night for me. A few people paddled by, asking my name, but I couldn’t hear them. Then I had to pull out my snorkel to talk and swallowed water. It wasn’t as rough as it was a few days ago, but it was pretty choppy so not ideal for treading water and fiddling around with goggles and snorkel. Water was getting it under my neckline, and it was bothering me. I tried but couldn’t get the bib tucked in better. 

I really liked this part of the lake (on the opposite side from where I live and swim) and the park; will swim here again. I don’t know about the other swimmers. I really wasn’t welcomed into the group at all. I know swimmers want to leave as soon as they get out of the water—they’re cold—but aside from one women who talked to me, I might as well have been invisible. Also, hard to try to meet people in the dark at a night swim. The one lady who talked to me, she liked my Facebook handle, called me over to get into the photo. That was nice. But when I saw at the photo the next day I was horrified. I have gain so much weight that it seems impossible that I will ever be able to lose it. 

I really will never figure out how to make friends in Seattle. In the midwest, we welcome people into the group. In Seattle, the group ignores new people. Whatever. The Seattle Freeze. I’ll give the group another shot for a daylight event, but …… it is ironic that I drove 25 minutes to swim there, thinking I would meet people and have more of a group experience than if I went to my neighborhood lake to swim with some of the women I met this past summer. Some of the women from that group have done the same when I’ve gone out with them: they finish, they’re cold, they leave. I guess that is just the way. But I like to finish together and leave the park together. Leave nobody behind. I have meet a few swimmers who have waited until I was in my warm gear to leave; I really appreciate that. 

I came in from the water and was breathing really hard. Sometimes my heart rate goes weird and I breathe funny. A couple people asked if I was ok. I’m fine, I told them. I struggled to get all my cold stuff off and get my warm gear on, but everyone left the beach to head back to their cars. I couldn’t get my new gloves off, and M wasn’t really able to help much. I hate the trade offs. For warm hands I get a real struggle removing my gear, and that’s super uncomfortable in the cold. I guess I would rather be cold on the beach than in the water, but I am so tired of how hard everything is in my life. 

Finally, I was dressed and had my boots on. M and I put everything into my bag and made our way up a little trail, across a little foot bridge, then gingerly stepped through really slick grassy area with goopy mud. I had my cane, and was trying to sort of shuffle. I was focussing so hard that a panic attack lit up inside me despite my best efforts to keep cool. Traversing this sticky mud took me back to three years ago when I fell in this type of mud, breaking my fibula and tibia all the way apart. Fuck. I don’t remember how I got through the mud, but I remember grabbing the fence next to the parking lot and hanging on for dear life as I fell apart. I didn’t even realize I was crying and kind of yell-moaning. M said she’d pull the car around, and left. Someone asked me if I was alright, and I sputtered, “panic attack.” She kept trying to talk to me, but I couldn’t breathe and my hands and legs felt both numb and pulsey, like jello. The woman told me to look her in the eye, then she lead me through some breathing. That was awesome, that helped. She was holding a plate of cookies, and all I could think of was, “if I wasn’t gluten-free I would want some of those.” This went on for a few minutes. I was able to tell her that I’d had an accident a few years back and walking through the mud just set me off. She didn’t get it at first, thinking I had fallen. I was pretty sure I was coming out of it ok, but tried not to rush things. I asked her what her name was. N. 

M got me in the car, and I continued to take long inhales, hold, then exhale. She asked me what music I wanted. The Who, Who’s Next. Then I just tried to breathe and let the songs distract me. I could feel the automatic tears fighting to be released, a wave of panic still wanting to burst out, but I was working hard to nip this thing in the bud. I kept saying to myself, “you didn’t fall. You are ok. Nothing happened this time.” Over and over again. I drank all my water and focussed on my breathing. I was singing the words in my head so the wave would die. That is the weirdest thing about these attacks. I can stop them now, but they come in waves and even if I stop at one wave, the others are still inside me. It’s not emotions. It’s not even something I’m thinking. Just an automatic response in my nervous system. I don’t like the lack of control, and in another way, it doesn’t bother me because I don’t have control. Once I realize what’s happening I do what I can to reign it in. 

I was pretty sure that once I was home the second wave would hit me and I’d be crying hysterically and yelling. It just felt like there was a lot still inside that was going to force itself out. But it didn’t happen. M got me home and onto my couch. (You can’t faint if you are lying down.) I kept hydrating. I called my parents. If I can be distracted, I can beat it back. Sometimes it just eases for awhile then explodes again…..but not tonight. Maybe it is dorky, but I feel really proud of myself that I was able to control, slow it down, stop it. I had help, that’s ok. I hate PTSD, but in a way the attacks like this are easier than the smaller, vague, subterranean unease that feels like it’s always inside, working on me. I don’t know how to get at that. I blame that for contributing to my unrelenting and ass-kicking fatigue, to some of my sleep problems. For some of my nightmares. The obvious attacks don’t scare me anymore; I know what to do. I don’t like that they are public, but I can get them under control now. I have to find a way to get at the deeper stuff. It’s like it knows that I can handle the big ones so it’s just gone deeper and works on me in ways I don’t recognize. Gonna find a shaman and see is she can pull it out of me because the therapy they had me do didn’t do much except help me stop blaming myself for my accident. That’s actually a huge accomplishment because I was stuck there for a long time, but I think I need energy work and movement to work out the rest of the stuff. It’s not something to think through or workbook through. 

I’m glad I got in the water. I really wanted to swim on Solstice and put some light out in the water for C, C, and T. It’s ok that it turned out to be a hard swim. That happens. It’s ok I had a panic attack. I’m not giving up. 

Amazon just showed up and dropped a feast of junk food at the door. Need to deal with that. Peace out.