We all have a fear of something. Mine, happens to be the sea. It’s not because, I can’t swim, I am in fact a very good swimmer, I even used to be top of the class in my school. The fear occurred when I went on holiday, with my parents to Spain. I was swimming in the sea, it was quite calm at the time, and I wasn’t that far out. I remember there being a big rock, which I swam over to out of curiosity. A huge wave, came out of nowhere, taking me under the water, and I hit my head on the rock. I wasn’t knocked out, but I was a little dazed, which slowed my reaction to swim up to the surface. I can still remember struggling to breathe in my panic, my hazy vision, preventing me from finding my way out of the endless water. It was terrifying, and from that day, I’ve never set one toe in the sea again.

This was in my teenage years, but the fear has remained with me, I won’t even walk next to the sea. I didn’t realise, just how bad my fear was, until recently when I went to Spain with my husband. He really wanted to go on a boat ride around the coastline, so I agreed, thinking nothing of it. When I caught sight of the wooden pier, I was expected to walk across to reach the boat, my panic began to rise. There were no rails on either side to hold onto, and although the sea was really shallow, it did nothing to lessen the fear building inside of me.

Walking across that pier made me feel light headed, and I was actually shaking all over. I didn’t want to look down, because it was only made of flimsy wooden slats, which creaked, and moved with each step, but looking ahead wasn’t much better. All I could see, was masses of waves, rocking the boat which I was about to board. I eventually made it onto the boat, where I stayed in my seat through the whole journey. I may have even left, permanent indentations on the chair in front of me, from my fingers gripping onto it.

Every wave made my stomach somersault, but despite my legs feeling like jelly, I didn’t freak out. When the trip ended, and we returned to the pier, it was like one of those nightmares, where you’re moving, but you never seem to reach the end. When I eventually did, I would have kissed the ground, but it was several inches of sand, so I refrained 🙂 My husband stated, I didn’t even hold his hand that tight when I was in labour.

You don’t really know how bad your fear is, until you face it. Would I do it again? Hell no!!

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