The very first time I went scuba diving in the ocean was in Mexico. The area that I frequent is home to the second largest barrier reef in the world. It was a sight that I couldn't wait to see.
We traveled out, who knows how far, in a tiny dive boat that held about 12 people. I didn't enjoy the ride at all. Unfortunately, that was the moment in time when I realized that I am prone to seasickness.
Our dive was supposed to be no more than 40 - 50 feet but the dive master assured us that 80 - 90 feet would be fine. When we finally stopped at our location, which seemed to me to be the middle of the ocean, the waves were rocking us so wildly that I was shaking and very, very green. We loaded up our gear on our backs and dove in.
Since it was my first time, I was worried about buoyancy and stuck close to the dive guide during our descent. It was clear and beautiful all around me but as we got closer and closer to the sandy bottom, I felt like I was out of air.
I gave our guide the hand symbol for no air. He looked at my tank gauges confused. I gave the signal again, "NO AIR!" He gave me his extra regulator so that I could breathe from his tank. Again I gave the signal, "NO AIR!" and began to climb frantically to the surface. I'd apparently forgotten the lesson from my dive training about the bends. My husband and the dive guide held me and guided me slowly back to the rough surface. By the time I arrived back at the boat, I was crying hysterically and completely out of breath.
There was nothing wrong with my tank. I had plenty of air.
What I found out later was that I'd suffered an anxiety attack.
Because of my awareness of it, the anxiety is generally under control now. I have noticed, however, that there are times in my life where I am filled with dread or underlying panic.
In looking over my unpublished blog posts, I found one from early March of last year. I remember having this same sort of feeling:
I have been experiencing major mood shifts from high to low. I can't seem to find a balance and when I do, it's not lasting very long.
I've noticed that many people around me and their children seem to be feeling much the same way. Even in my study group, there are several of us that have been in tears nearly every night for seemingly no reason at all.
Now I don't know if its an intuitive cosmic thing... if that's too woo-woo of a thing to say. My mom said she is feeling it. Maybe it's just us? All I know is that for the past few weeks, I have felt a heavy ominous feeling that has me emotionally unstable and not sleeping well.
I'm in a panic.
Gentleman Jack says, "Ask yourself why you're scared. Let the fact that there is no reason calm you."
Rationally, I get this. I know all of that. But with this heaviness in my chest, I feel terrified to think about:
My kids' health
Me and my Gentleman
I've been hiding this from him and... even my blog. I can't explain this panicked feeling. It makes no sense.
The worst part of it is that GJ was feeling me pull away from him, which, in turn, scared him and then that scared me. Ugh. Vicious circle. I was only attempting to maintain some sort of stable front because inside I felt insane. I didn't want to cling to him as security as I was spinning out of control.
Then again, I should have known better than to try to hide anything from him. He is the most intuitive man I have ever known. Now that I've told him, he's offering me his "regulator" to breathe from his tank. When I was with him over the weekend, I felt so calm and stable. I appreciated his support however...
I'm afraid to depend on it.
When I'm scared, I feel OUT OF AIR and I'm flailing to get to the surface, no matter if it hurts me or not. I don't want to drag him into this place of fear too.
Something's changing. In me. In life. In this world. I don't know... The emotional whirlpool of a few weeks ago still has me spinning.
I feel like I can't breathe.
Like that deep dive 80 feet into the ocean, I know there's air but something is preventing me from the awareness of it. That something is me.