PROCESSING MY CHILDHOOD TRAUMA IN THE SWIMMING POOL

The professionals aren’t wrong about the calming properties of water …

I love being in nature — especially near bodies of water. It grounds me just like the professionals suggest. I am by no means a strong swimmer. At best, I’d go as far as I could in a pool and practice treading water right where I could barely touch the bottom of the pool with my feet, doggy paddle, or hang on to the ledges.

That said, I love the pool, I’m just not secure in it. Maybe like I’m not sure in life itself. I’m slowly learning no one is.

Now that I often have access to a private pool, I’ve been working on being more comfortable and confident in the water, and it’s been nothing short of amazing for my overall health.

Taking time to process childhood trauma

Dealing with flashbacks and intrusive memories

For the past couple of months, I have had this triggering childhood experience floating to the surface of my memory. Much like me floating on the surface of the water.

This childhood memory feels ‘uncomfy’, my body tingles when I think of it, shallow breathing, while my heart falls into my stomach. My mind pushes it back into the safe black hole that holds all my repressed childhood memories as fast as it recalls it.

I know now this is the perfect time to process this, and I’m ready.

I realized I had never told anyone this story before, not that I remembered. So, I chose to share it with a close friend via text, to get it out.

Trauma trigger warnings and bullying

When I was in elementary school, around 4th grade or so, I had a crush on this boy. I was always that awkward kid around my crushes. It was library day and we all filed into a dark library. I’m not sure why it was dark. I’m assuming there was a power outage.

While the rest of the kids stood in front of the library by the windows, my crush came over and told me to follow him to the back of the library. It got darker the further back we went. Once we got there, we stood face to face, and he socked my face.

I don’t remember any words being spoken. I remember the sting of the hit on my cheekbone and trying so hard not to cry.

The next thing I remember is standing there alone, books to my right, books to my left, and those blue metal book ends holding them up tight and cramped together.

I walked back out to join the class. My crush and his friends were laughing. They asked me why my face was red and told me that I looked like I was going to cry.

I kept denying it, praying I was playing it off and acted as if it never happened.

Adults were never told about this, no friends, or cousins because I was embarrassed. In my mind, I felt responsible for being socked in the face by my crush. Maybe I made him feel uncomfortable. I gave him the benefit of the doubt, that his friends made him do it. I also thought ‘this would never happen to a pretty, popular girl’.

Learning to listen to your body

As I wrote this to my friend, sitting on the pool ledge with my feet in the water, listening to my favorite sad songs, and the palm trees swooshing in the wind, tears painfully and quietly fell. I was ready to get in the pool.

Mindful mental health

Submerging myself in water is the best feeling. A deep oblong hole full of water, cradling and swaddling me, with just the right amount of pressure. A feeling as close to a hug as you can get when you’re alone.

I floated there, crying, trusting my body to know what to do in the water. ‘I trust myself. I trust what I’m comfortable doing, floating on my back, flipping over from floating on my back, frog kick’.

My thought process shifts back and forth from the pain of the memory to focusing on my form, to trusting my body and intuition about how to just be in the water.

I did this for a couple of hours, mostly floating on my back with just my eyes, nose, and mouth above water, trying to align myself with the shade from the palms of the tree. I could feel the breeze on my face, as I listened to the hum of the water in my submerged ears, with the faintest sounds of my playlist in the background.

Every time the memory came through, I allowed it to stay and instinctively became aware of my body in the water as I began to sink. My focus shifted to my body to keep it afloat. Peace. Repeat. Until all I was thinking about was the moment I was in. The warm water on a hot day. The resident bird splashing its wings in the bird bath followed by watching me from the ledge of the fence. And the dogs, coming out for some cuddles by the pool ledge.

‘I’m safe. I’m secure. Mind quiet. Body trusting my intuition in the water’. Not overthinking my childhood memory or staying afloat. Just being.

All the things I need to process painful childhood memories.

---