Come On In! The Water's Fine!

 I spent a large part of my childhood and young adulthood feeling timid, shy, and scared.  As a child I would lay awake at night running through various possible catastrophic scenarios.  If there was a fire how would I get out?  How would my sisters and parents get out?  What about an earthquake?  What if a ghost materialized in my room, what would I do?  If a madman crawled through my window would I scream?  Or just stare dumbfounded?  My teachers often complained to my parents that I seemed tired at school, that I lacked focus.  Well, duh, I was mulling over the problems of the world each night.   My sister found these small little hand crafted mexican worry people.  They came in a little satchel and at night you took them out, told them your worries and placed them back in the satchel under your pillow.  I loved them at first.  I was so happy to unload all of my fear, anxiety, doubt and dread on them.  Those first few nights I whispered my fears to them and placed them under my pillow and slept soundly knowing they were working on it so I didn’t have to.  Then I began to worry about the worry people.  Did they understand what I was saying?  Was I being clear and cohesive and detailed enough?  Did I have to tell them in order of importance or did they know what issues I was most concerned about?  Did they pray for your worries?  Or did I still need to say my prayers? After a few short nights the worry people only added to my uneasiness.  

I was scared of strangers, I would become flustered when my Mother would make me run into the Chinese laundry to pick up her dry cleaning because I didn’t understand the woman and I thought she was yelling at me.  I wasn’t good at standing up for myself, I often would allow other children to mock me and would sit by and pretend not to hear.  Teachers would often tell my parents I lacked confidence, that I relied too heavily on my sister Robin, that I wan’t independent enough, that I was shy to the point of muteness.  In fifth grade I actually believed at one point I was being followed by a ghost.  First it began at night, in my bed, when I was unable to sleep and was running through my various calamitous scenarios, then it seeped into the day as well, when I was riding my bike home from school, at school, this feeling of panic would sweep over me and I would be sure I was being followed.  Now, I was already a total nerd, had precious few friends and was a target for bullies, so the whole being followed by a ghost thing I’m sure only made me act like a bigger misfit. 

I realise now as an adult looking back that I was most likely suffering from anxiety, but as a kid I felt like everything frightened me, other children, strangers, teachers, the unknown, the dark, change, the local news.  I got to a point where I was sick of being scared.  I was tired of being timid.  As I wrote in an earlier post, I made a conscious descion in my late teens and twenties to overcome my timidness and self consciousness, I made a point to be more out spoken, to stand up for myself and for what I believe in.  I pretended to be the outgoing, funny, friendly girl until I actually felt I was able to become her.  However, as an adult I still struggle with my fears and overcoming them.  Who doesn’t?  It is amazing though how a seemingly small occurrence can remind you of your fears and the feeling of paralysis that accompanies them.  

This past weekend I was up at my sister’s beach house with her, her husband, her stepson, Terr-bear, my younger sister Jamie and her boyfriend.  We had a wonderful, fun, laid back weekend.  And best of all I finally was able to swim in the sound for the first time this summer.  Usually I am the first one in the water at the beginning of the season and the last one out at the end of the season.  I love the salt water and am an avid believer that it is good for the skin, hair, and soul.  On Saturday there were a few jellyfish sightings, no big deal, I’d seen them before and still swam regardless.  Jamie’s boyfriend asked me about it and I made a point of saying that they are always around, but you can see them and they never stopped me from enjoying the water.  Later in the day I was pulling Jamie on the float when I felt stinging on the back of my legs.  I freaked, of course, and began frantically pulling her and the float to the shore.  By the time I reached the sand my chest had also begun to sting.  I went back to the house and took off my suit, I had red marks across my chest and on my calves and I found two teeny, tiny jelly’s in my suit.  I must have walked through a little school of them, hence all the stinging in different places.  For a few minutes it started to feel really uncomfortable, then per my brother in laws instruction I doused the marks in vinegar and took some advil.  I was beyond lucky, both helped immensely and by the evening I felt fine.  So, I wasn’t stung by a man o' war or some other crazy huge jelly, I have seen people in excruciating pain from being stung, I simply had some uncomfortable stinging.  Nevertheless the next day at the beach I had this Gollum like internal monologue going on in my head, “Crap, what if there are more jelly’s in the water. Ugh now the ocean is ruined for me!  I can only swim in pools now.  But I LOVE the salt water.  Ugh damn jelly’s!  I can’t go back in.  You HAVE to go back in!  Yes!  It wasn’t bad yesterday but what if I get stung by a big one today?”  I was starting to get really ticked off at those bastard jellyfish when I had a flashback of me as a teenager at the beach in the summer, sweating and feeling uncomfortable in my own skin because I was wearing a long sleeve t-shirt and shorts instead of a bathing suit because I felt too pale, fat, and ugly and was scared people would judge me.  That’s when I snapped myself back into reality. “Mandy, get over it.  Go in the water, do not sit on the sidelines.  You spent way too long being scared on the sidelines.”  Now, some of you may be snickering and thinking, “Grow a set woman, it was just some small jellyfish!”  However, from a young age I learned to avoid anything that made me uncomfortable or made me feel bad.  15 years ago I wouldn’t have gone back into the water.  I would’ve sulked on the beach.  Well, I went back in.  Twice!  Albeit briefly both times, I didn’t do my usual floating and lolling, but I did go in completely, cooled of and felt the lovely briney feel of the salt water on my body.  A small victory, but a personal one none the less.  Life is too short.  We all know this, we all say it.  I need to start living it.  Here’s to not being scared and to jumping in and enjoying the water! 

Comments

[Pooh Bear #1]

Nice one! Thanks for pulling me out :) I didn't think I was bothered by the jelly fish, but I keep having dreams about them each night... weird!

[Sheliaemc]

Excellent Mandy! I love how you describe the demons of your childhood - especially the worry dolls!

[Oh my gawd]

Coulda been worse. These guys could've been hanging out: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G6cRn7UI_x4

-P

[Manda]

I don't even want to look.

[sarah]

Love the blog Mandy. I used to pore over this series of books called something like how to survive disasters like an alligator attack, etc so I can relate to this post.

It is also funny how one perceives things differently. I have met you only a handful of times but I have such a different picture of you. I was almost intimidated by you because I thought you were so confident, funny, pretty and smart. :) I still think all those things of you!

[Claire]

Hey Mandy I love it! Wow. You really have me thinking of all the things that stop me from fully living my life. Fear sucks! You so rock and I am going to try to follow your example.
Love you.

[Christopher Lembke]

First off, I think the little guys probably was saying "lo siento chiquita, pero no hablamos ingles", but then took English classes for you, so all your worries will have been dealt with. I too was stalked by a ghost (or so I believe anyway), but it would only hang out in the corner of the middle of the stairway in our house. I stopped having that feeling in 2004 after my grandmother passed away, she basically scared the bugger away, cheers granny! Morale of the story; stalked by a ghost, get yourself a strong arm on the other side. I believe that if you spend your days thinking happy positive things about yourself and those around you, it will be so. It is as when you smile before a phone call, your voice will come across as much friendlier. It's all about the 'tude, man! I hope you will get to hang with my gals while they're in NJ. Love you always! The Stophenator