Tag: PTSD

My YMCA Master Swim class

I’ve had a ton of stuff happen in the last few years. I noticed I didn’t mention that the same year I did floatation therapy, I started a master swim class at my local YMCA.

Now, I had learned how to swim as a child. And somehow I found a small certificate that said I had passed a whale class – while I was still in my mom’s womb. One “minor” trauma that moderately intersects with the greater trauma I mentioned before, was my dad and half-brother sneaking up and pulling me under the water. All this at the same time the Jaws paperback was prominently displayed in grocery store checkout lines. Any interest in swimming was mostly gone.

But in college, we had a pretty nifty new gymnasium which included a natatorium (fancy word for pool). I took several 1 hour electives like racquetball and ham radio communications. I also took a swim class.

The school didn’t like to heat the pool, and even though it was in Texas, it was pretty chilly. But that didn’t bother me. What slightly disturbed me were the times we had to swim the length of the pool (most of the time we swam the width near the shallow end).

I felt an uneasy “tingling” as I crossed the line to the deep end. Now, when my dad and brother would pull me under, it was always in water I could stand in. I think I associated the deep with Jaws. But I think my subconscious related the risk the shark from Jaws carried and lumped it in with the trauma my grandparents had instilled in me. The feeling was the same. At any rate, I managed to pass the class, but wouldn’t swim again for over 30 years.

I was at a huge low place in my trauma. I had been a teacher at my workplace fitness center. But moving to a more distant building, it was hard to maintain the schedule. And my PTSD was still not fully addressed. Is it ever? Improv sustained me on basic life support. I gained weight. My previous yoga practice was falling away. I got an email from our fitness center that the nearby YMCA had a master swim class with openings. This was about a month after my first float and I think my subconscious said water was good and I signed up for it.

My first day, I was worried the instructor would make me go to a remedial class. I swam like my life was on the line — but it was too hard for my aerobic capacity at the time. Coach later told me she asked the life guard to keep an extra eye on me. I was panic swimming.

After using a pull buoy (which is meant to put the focus on the upper body and still the legs), I realized I had to slow my legs — but mostly I realized how much I loved swimming when pulling.

Between floating and swimming and other workouts, I was sometimes taking 4-5 showers a day. But some of those were rinsing only showers.

This is one of 4 things that intersected in one year that helped lift me up and diminish the effects PTSD has on me. I already mentioned the floatation therapy and I’ll add more regular posts on what else happened that year.

Namaste & Guacamole

A Float Delayed

I think I was in 7th grade when the movie Altered States came out. I’m pretty sure I never saw it, but I recall the previews and I was intrigued and really wanted to try it. But in 1980, float tanks were way more scarce.

Why was I intrigued though? William Hurt changes into some beast in the movie, but I knew that was very unlikely to happen to me. I think some part of my brain knew that it would be very, very good for me.

Flash forward almost 40 years to my overhearing a co-worker telling me he had just floated. I flooded him with questions and quickly had my first float booked.

It was winter in Texas and I think that prompted a little higher humidity in the tank. Plus winter means Cedar (aka Juniper) allergy season and I was a little congested. As I eagerly laid down, I had a strong smothering trigger. This stems from a childhood trauma (mentioned briefly in My Story Spine post). I quickly sat up (there’s lot’s of room in there). I took some calming breathes, cleared out my nose and slowly went back down.

For the most part, the float seemed fine. However, if I touched my side or my legs, I could feel this electricity (I’ve sometimes likened this feeling to a spider-sense). When I got out and tried to converse with the hostess, I could barely string a sentence together. Later I would think I might have been in some state of shock.

The float did not turn me into a monster like Altered States, but I think it was the beginning of the end of the PTSD monster I had carried for 40+ years. Now that monster both protected me and made me miserable. I think it helped contribute to my resilience.

Gradually that “electric” feeling I would get from my own touch would fade with each float until finally it’s just me. That anxious bundle of nerves was finally gone. The electric feeling did also remind me of my first full body massage about 20 years earlier. My whole body was literally buzzing/vibrating for almost an hour after. This set me up for some disappointment as it never happened again. I think in both cases, there was a deep release of tension in the nerves – tension on overdrive because of the PTSD.

Now when I float, it’s mostly an escape and a meditation and also a place I can reassure my previous incarnations that they helped get us where we are now and helped us release that PTSD monster. And EMDR and laughter therapy both came along the next year and helped stomp out any remaining embers of the monster.

Namaste