All year long I look forward to when they open the pool and last night I went night swimming with a friend. It was super cold (Nipplitus Uber Alles Nipplitus Uber Alles!) but it was worth it.

I used to be terrified of water of drowning. My fear was more that I would be too weak to save myself, that a cramp or just plain exhaustion would drag me down to Davy Jones locker. I had my twin phobias; buried alive (Don’t bury me! I am not dead yet quoth the main character from Serpent and Rainbow) and drowning. Despite that I swam laps in 5 feet lap bool at the Y and float like a Pennywise balloon in the sewers of Derry every chance I get; as long as it’s 5 feet or less.

I started sleeping with the lights on a few years back when my “roommate”/male friend during the Quarantine started beating me in the dark so he couldn’t see my face. He was mentally ill and the stress and paranoia of that time catapulted him into full on psychotic mode. During our time together he was hospitalized 3 times for 30 days each and sent home with bags of counter indicated medication which his doctors and parents expected me to monitor. Thats when the worm turned; The hospital giving me control over whether he could come back to his house or not recast me from victim of to high level operative in the conspiracy to destroy his life. He started hitting me with his giant crazy hands, and finally turning the lights off and stomping me with this giant clown feet.

Aside: I really think the city of Augusta was trying to kill me. In the final days of our relationship, He chased me and a neighbor around with a dull machete and the cop who confiscated it after he was arrested and released, returned it a week later. Luckily, I was in the yard and intercepted the deadly weapon; I have never seen a cop return property where I live. They auction it off before the disposition of most cases, even ones where a clueless granny’s grandson is slinging without her knowledge and with the tacit approval and silence of her neighbors. He started to knock me down and stomp me with his clown feet when I talked back or he thought I was having sex with the neighbor.

Shapeless attempt at more clicks (don’t judge me)

In any case, thats when my phobias increased from 2 to 3. Maybe being able to sleep in the dark would be better for my energy bill reduce my carbon footprint… And since I am going to be cremated they can’t bury me alive, but it’s the panic I feel in deep water and even shallow that I want to learn to overcome. Even though I know in my head if I don’t panic 1) Not swimming not in the Pacific Ocean with sharks and an undertow or above Cthulhu’s lair on the day of our true master’s return, science says I will float just as long as I breath oxygen in and blow out CO2. Letting my rational freak flag fly is the only way I will be able to overcome this fear and truly learn when to float and when to swim. Lately it’s been too much of the former and not enough of the latter.