Calm Underwater and Storms Above

I wrote this yesterday, after my second day of my diving class. I spent the night almost sleepless yesterday, as every time I would close my eyes, the whole experience would return to me. It's hard for me to post entries about experiences that are less than awesome for me, yet somehow I want this blog to be about sharing not only my great times but lessons that may be hard but valuable. I have some idea of who is reading these, but not completely, and you never know when or how a story of your own will affect someone else, so here it is:

As I'm sitting here writing I can still feel my body rocking up and down. I just took some aspirin but think what I've got requires something a little stronger than that. Today was day three of my diving class that I have been taking, although the first day doesn't really count, as it's all videos. Yesterday was the first day of being underwater, breathing. We took a boat about fifteen minutes away from the island, and then jumped in the shallow water (about 6-7 feet) to do our skills sessions. The first part was just treading water for ten minutes, and while we did that a huge stingray passed beneath our feet, and a large barracuda watched us from under the boat. I was so scared I was going to kick the stingray and he was going to turn and, oh you know, pierce my heart or something. Even though I know they're generally gentle, being so far out from land awakens this sleeping fear inside of me. After treading water, we went down underwater for the first time. Our skills sessions were not scary, but slightly strenuous, as they involved one task after another, some of which were commonplace things that could happen underwater, some for emergency situations. When we came up, I was not super into this whole scuba thing so far. While I did just fine, I was having trouble seeing the real lure of the whole activity. Then we went for a dive to just breathe and get used to being underwater, and to have some frickin' fun.

Wow. We started out around ten feet, and then by the time we came up, we were thirty feet down. Which isn't much at all for diving, but certainly further under the water than I ever thought I might be. It was incredible. Once we got moving, I couldn't believe how freeing and incredibly relaxing it was. My fear of being down there, and of sharks and such, disappeared once I got to be part of the environment, rather than splashing around above. It was so peaceful, with brightly colored fish drifting past, and coming up so close to check us out. The coral was gorgeous, with these big fan shaped pieces blowing back and forth like in a breeze, and interesting formations everywhere. Every time I would turn my head, I would see some new piece of life that I had never seen before. But even better than the marine life was the feeling it gave me to be floating along weightless. It felt so graceful and effortless to kick my fins and move through the water silently. All there was to hear was the sound of my bubbles from my mask as I exhaled. Even the fact that your buoyancy is controlled by your breath lent itself to just staying slow and calm, and enjoying the world as it went by. I would exhale and slowly drift towards the bottom, where my belly might almost touch before I used just my fingertips to push myself away again. I'd inhale deeply and feel myself float lightly up. It was really magical, and it seemed amazing that after just hours in the water I felt so comfortable being down there. I left my class yesterday feeling on top of the world, and so proud of myself for doing MUCH better than I thought I was going to.

And then fast forward to today. Last night, there was the craziest wind storm here. I haven't been in wind like it since my first year of college, when we stood at the top of the steps, leaned in and were held up by the force of the gusts blowing our jackets and hair back. Last night was like that here, and was so awesome. It was fun, and crazy, to be blown all over the place by this warm tropical wind. I had dinner with the girls in my diving class, and we discussed whether class would be canceled today, since the weather didn't seem like it had any intention of letting up. But the wind died down a bit, and when we got to class today, everything was still happening. On the way out to our dive site, our boat was bouncing everywhere over these huge 5 or 6 foot waves, and I started to feel really nervous about going in the water. I kept trying to talk myself out of these feelings, but it wasn't really working out that well. We talked about our plan for getting in the water, and I felt pretty confident that I understood how this was all supposed to go down. We entered backwards into the water, and swam towards the front of the boat, and the anchor line that had been dropped. We were supposed to go down to the bottom, which was about twenty feet when we got there. The day before had been beautiful and still, and when we deflated our vests, we all just kind of sank straight down. Having had that be my only experience, I didn't quite take into account what this crazy day on the sea was going to be like. As I let go of the rope and deflated my vest, rather than sinking, I immediately started heading right underneath the boat, and was barely a foot under the water, plenty high enough to watch the bow of the boat slamming up and down on the waves straight above me as I tried to kick out of the way in the strong current. I started to sink just a bit, but only enough to now panic that I was starting to go down, as my mask and nose filled with water and I forgot to breathe through the regulator in my mouth. My teacher appeared beside me, and kept pointing above at the boat, and telling my to go down, but by now I really couldn't. We went to the anchor line, and I could not stop the feelings of panic that were overtaking me, as waves kept breaking above my head, making it feel impossible to get my bearings and just calm down. As we talked she kept convincing me to just come down and it would be fine. After some time, I decided I just had to do it if I was going to make this happen, and deflated my vest and went down the rope with her. It felt so crazy. There was such a current that I had to use most of my strength to pull myself down the rope, with my regulator that you breathe into being knocked around and almost out of my mouth. We got to the bottom, and I could barely see in front of me because of all the sand flying around from the bottom. I did a couple of the skills exercises, but I just could not relax, no matter how hard I tried. I was breathing so hard, and couldn't pull myself together. It was the only panic attack (or close to it) that I've ever had. Finally, I had to signal to go up, and get back in the boat. I had to take a couple of minutes to pull myself together, and deal with my relief at being back on the boat and able to breathe, and my crushing disappointment in myself for not being able to pull it together. It really, really sucked. It was also freezing, as the wind creating all these waves was also creating a breeze that felt arctic after being in the water. As the horribleness continued, I soon started to feel sick from the insane rocking of the boat. Everyone came back up from their dive, and our instructor asked me if I wanted to come down for the next dive, and work on some more skills. By this time, that idea was pretty much incomprehensible, and I chose to sit it out. I laid down, trying to get rid of my nauseous feelings, and soon realized that was just not going to happen. Finally, encouraged by the boat captain, I threw up over the side, which I really couldn't believe. I've never gotten sick from a boat before...I did feel much better, but the progression of the day really was not a good one. I laid down on the boat seat, glad to be rid of my sickness, when the sky opened up and it began to pour rain. Can you believe this? Wearing just my swimsuit, the day had officially reached hellish proportions. By the time they came up from their last dive, I was almost blue with the cold and shivering uncontrollably. We drove the fifteen minutes back to the dock with all of us huddled on the floor freezing. Now, I am waiting to go back and take my test in about a half hour, trying to decide what the hell to do. Even as I write this, I feel kind of sick, but mostly, that panic that clutched me keeps coming back, even in this warm room, nice and dry. That fights in my head with the lovely calm and peacefulness of yesterday, and the feeling of accomplishment that came with it.

Even writing this, it's hard to explain exactly how scared I was. Maybe it's impossible to really let others get a sense of your deepest emotions (unless, maybe, you're a writer who far surpasses my talents). I do know that I haven't been that physically afraid for myself (possibly unreasonably) in a very, very long time, and there's something about the experience that has shaken me.

Dear God.