Stormy Seas

There I was, on my little boat, happy as could be. I was sailing the ocean, trying to find my place in this world. The day was bright, the sun shining in a clear blue sky. Not a cloud in sight, my hopes high, spirits light, I sailed on towards the distant horizon, so far off I couldn't see even a glimpse of it.

The day carried on, and brought forth the night. This was just as beautiful and breathtaking as the day. The stars, millions of them, sparkled, and seemed to call my name. Reflecting in the now dark water, it almost seemed as if I were sailing through space itself! The light of the moon whispered lullabies and peaceful tidings, and paired with the rocking of my little vessel after a long day, quickly brought me to slumber.

Here, I dreamed. I dreamed what I knew- a small sailboat sitting upon the ocean. From land, you could see the white cloth hoisted up against the bright blue, signifying the line between sea and sky. All was calm. All was peaceful. Not a care in the world, or worry of the future, existed in this wonderful moment.

Very quickly, this perfect idea of the world crashed around me.

I awoke in a panic, plunged into the deep depths of the dangerous waters. Everything was dark. Too dark. With the black water surrounding me, there was no light- not from the moon, not from the sun, not from the stars. Unable to tell which way was up towards breathable air, or down to where oxygen eludes the Earth Dwellers, I didn't know which way to turn. I searched for a sign, anything at all, to tell me what to do or where to go.

Amazingly, my head broke above the water, but only for the briefest of moments. Just long enough to gasp in a life-saving breath of air, I opened my lungs before another wave crashed over me, knocking me back under.

And so the cycle started.

Continuously, I would find the water's surface and cough, sputter, gasp in as much air as I could before the next wave sent me spinning again. The water was terribly cold, and I was rapidly losing feeling in my extremities. First, my fingers and toes. My hands, feet, legs, arms, and then even my torso and head. I was cold, freezing, drowning. There was no way I was going to make it out of this alive.

But then, just as I was about to give into my fate and let the water carry me home, my hand hit something hard. My boat!

It was in pieces, hardly a boat any longer, but the piece I had encountered was big enough to hold into. In doing so, I was thrown back under less, and was forced back to the surface much faster than I was on my own. The added buoyancy allowed for relatively regular breathing, immediately extending my life longer than would have been allowed on my own. Even still, the waves continued to crash down, with rain like ice shards piercing me where the sea avoided my skin.

After what seemed like decades, the storm passed. The heavy rain softened, before disappearing. The waves got smaller, less violent, and tried to push me under their surface less and less. I no longer had to fight to keep my head in the breathable oceanic sphere. It was still dark, but the moon started to peek through the clouds, allowing me to take stock of my surroundings.

I was alone. There was no land in sight. My boat was broken beyond repair- not that I had the means to even try to piece it back together, had I any more of my shattered vessel than my current floating device. If I didn't find land, or someone else, soon, surly this would mean the end. There was no way I could survive like this for long. My food and fresh water were gone. I was already freezing; my body had so little heat it had to conserve what remained. I was hardly shivering anymore. I was exhausted, and without a place to rest safely. I had nothing: no supplies, no help, no hope.

I held on as long as I could. As the sun rose in the sky, bringing another clear day, I tried to picture the future. I tried to see myself on a boat of my own again, sailing peacefully across the seas. However, I knew this wasn't my reality any longer. I had experienced trauma, the unfortunate byproduct of life. My old happiness and joy was short lived in innocence, now forever jaded with the harsh truths of reality.

Gone were my days of naivety. Gone were my hopes for a long life of happiness and adventure, of exploration and joy. My ignorance had blinded me from the harsh reality of the world, of nature. My life would be the price for my lack of understanding, my lack of experience. I was left to float along, until I closed my eyes, knowing this would be my final slumber.

I floated here for a while, oblivious to the world around me. Knowing that nothing but sea and sky laid between me and the Unknown After, I decided to let it take me as it would. With my eyes closed, face towards the Heavens, and ears in and out of the water as the now gentle waves rocked me along, anything could have been happening around me.

And indeed, Anything did happen around me. Suddenly, without any conscious warning to me, I was pulled out of the water by an unknown force. My eyes cracked open to see a face close to mine, silhouetted by a sail in the background. Shouts were called, and I closed my eyes once more, knowing that, at least in this moment, I was safe.

After this first occurrence with trauma and the resulting depression, anxiety, and even PTSD, there were a lot of hardships. Ships were carriers into the Fearful Unknown, a constant reminder of what happened, and could have been. My love for the sea still remained, but muted. It was hidden behind a veil of uncertainty. The fog was so thick, sometimes I couldn't see it at all. My love for my old life was distant. No longer could I look at sailing the seas in the same light I had before my experience. I wasn't the same carefree captain anymore.

Over time, my new crew helped me manage my understandable symptoms. They taught me how to watch out for changes in weather, how to prep a ship for harsh seas. They showed me how to tell when it was safe to rest, and when to be on guard. We practiced in calm waters, so that when the tides turned for the worse, we would be prepared.

Over time, I regained my confidence and trust in myself and my abilities to sail. My old innocent view of the world did not return, not completely. However, my love for the sea did, and my experiences taught me lessons that I didn't know to think of beforehand. Now, I am an experienced sailor, with many a storm behind me. I have lost a few ships, and at time even crew members. But we always pick ourselves back up, build a stronger ship, and help other sailors who cross our waters, floating nearly lifelessly in the sea, just as I once did.

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*If you find yourself in the stormy seas of depression, you're not alone. Far from it, in fact. I have written several pieces about parts of my own battle with this beast, and have even shared some tips on how to potentially help yourself when you find yourself thrown under, here.

I've also written about recovery, parts of which can also be applied to those struggling in this scenario.

No matter how bad the storm gets, or how alone and hopeless it seems, the storm will end and you can find peace once again. As Dory from Finding Nemo says, just keep swimming.*

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