Hey. This post talks about near-death experiences, fear, and drowning. If you donât want to read about any of those things, scroll by. This is your only warning.
I lied, hereâs your second warning:
I am talking about one of the times I nearly died in this post. The entire thing is about death, fear, and the strange peace I felt. The incident I talk about involves me nearly drowning, so Iâm going to repeat my earlier warnings: if you are uncomfortable with death, fear, or drowning, LEAVE THIS POST!! YOUR MENTAL HEALTH IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN STORYTIME!!
With my warnings out of the way, Iâll start by making this more of a story than a rant.
It wasnât the type of day youâd expect this sort of thing to happen on. The sun shone through the water, leaving beautiful patterns on the wave pool floor. I could hear the laughter of my siblings as they splashed around in the cool water. I could also hear a couple arguing, but thatâs not the point.
I was a little annoyed going in. Kids were screaming in the shallows while adults were bumping into me everywhere else. It felt like the wave pool was packed to capacity, yet people kept coming in, filling any empty space there once was.
The wave machine started with an ugly grinding noise. For a second, I thought that it might explode. It didnât. They were small waves, not even enough to push the little kids around. And yet SOMEHOW, people were still bumping into me. Being the antisocial, please-donât-touch-me type, I moved just a tiny bit, just enough to get out of bumping range whenever I felt a shoulder or a foot touch me. But. It kept. Happening.
A few minutes pass. The waves are larger now, pushing lighter people around and smacking uncomfortably into my chest. Some small children have left, most dragged out by concerned parents. The adults and teens my age, however, have stayed. Worse, theyâve stayed crammed in the middle and deep end, despite there being room. Iâm pushed forward quite a bit during this period, but my feet remain firmly planted on the floor.
Itâs been 10 or so minutes since the waves started. The waves pick me up slightly as they pass, but itâs manageable. People are laughing up ahead, giggling as their friend in dunked under water repeatedly. They leave after a bit, grumbling and dripping.
The waves pick up suddenly. I have to jump with each wave to keep my head above water, but surely this is the final stage! Obviously, it wouldnât get stronger than this, or else itâd be dangerous! I feel the toenail of someone behind my scratch my calf, so I take a few steps forward. They move too.
I can feel exhaustion creeping up my legs. I turn around nervously, trying to get back to the shallows, but the crowd behind me refuses to part. I see laughing faces before my vision is muddled by water. I surface quickly, rubbing the water out of my eyes and turning back around. I could survive a few more minutes of this. Then, itâd end, the crowd would clear, and I could go chill in the lazy river.
I look around nervously as the crowd around me pushes me forward again. There had to be a gap somewhere. A place I could escape to. There was none. The water is too deep here. I have to tread water now, getting a brief respite between waves when my feet skim the floor before having to push my body to its limit to stay above water when the waves inevitably return.
As my limbs burn with overexertion, a large wave crashes over me, filling my nose and mouth with stinging, chemical-tasting, cold water. I flail to the surface, gasping for air that had been so suddenly stolen. This quickly proves to be a bad choice, as another wave slams into my face.
I curl under the water, holding my breath and attempting to squeeze past the crowd of sweaty jerks that had pushed me so far. The water burns my eyes as I try to find a way through, but there is none. There is not a single gap for me to find escape in. As soon as I surface to fill my burning lungs with air, another wave knocks me under.
Panic takes over. I cannot get air while these waves are so aggressive, and thereâs no way I can hold my breath long enough to wait it out. I attempt to find a ladder, remembering that there had been one deeper in the pool, but the waves shove me backwards every time I get closer.
I pop up for a gasp of air only to get water. I sputter, coughing it out, only to get more when I try to breathe. The edges of the world have vanished. The laughter of children and excited shrieks of adults acting like kids are drowned out by the pounding of blood in my ears and one single thought: if I donât get out, this will be my grave.
No one has seen my struggles. The lifeguards do not glance in my direction as I reach a hand into the air, my cry for help swallowed by the waves. The people around me do not care. They are lost in fun and joy and ignoring their problems. I make a desperate reach for something, anything to hold onto, and feel my fingers brush something metallic. Maybe the waves (or maybe the people around me) had pushed me towards the ladder? Maybe this was over?
No. Another wave slammed into me, sending me, along with several other people, stumbling backwards. Strangely, I donât feel any fear. The burning in my lungs is only a dull pain. My limbs feel heavy and weak as a chill seeps through my skin and finds home in my bones. My thoughts seem to silence themselves. The sounds of the world are gone, replaced only by the slow hum of machines and the even slower thudding of my heart. For the first time, the world is peaceful. It feels as though Iâm drifting off to sleep as my body is rocked back and forth by the waves, sinking deeper and deeper into the darkness.
A loud whistle rips through the quiet. The humming machine stops, and with it, the waves carrying me to rest. A strong arm wraps around me, warm and solid, unlike anything in the past 16 minutes. I gasp when air hits my face, coughing and wheezing as everything comes back. Everything is loud and bright, from the sun to the people talking amongst themselves.
It takes about 10 minutes for my mom to arrive (I was 15 and she was in line for a slide with my siblings). In the end, everything was okay. Sure, I was shaky for a while and a little afraid of swimming for like 3 months, but it was all okay in the end.
So uhhh yeah there you go. Thanks for reading! I know itâs a little ramble-y and probably not written that well, but what can you expect? Iâm not a writer and Iâm sure as hell not great at turning my thoughts into words, but I tried! If youâd like to ask anything, my ask box is open and so are the comments. If youâd like to block me so you donât see shit like this again, thatâs okay too! Again, your mental health is more important than a stupid post. Put yourself first.
