I jumped off the boat into the Caribbean Sea, only to discover that despite my excitement to be snorkeling, the act of breathing normally while underwater immediately triggered an anxiety attack.
I scrambled back onto the boat, pulling off my gear on the way. The boat captain, Ron, calmed me down enough that I could talk. But all I could say was, “I couldn’t breathe,” over and over again. As I sat on deck shivering and shaking, Ron got a large bucket and filled it with water. He set the bucket in front of me and handed me my mask and snorkel.
“Try it here,” he said. “You won’t drown. I’m right here to help you.” I vigorously shook my head no, to which he replied, “Take your time. We have all day.”
Once I realized he really would sit there until nightfall, I decided I might as well get this over with. He had me put my face in the bucket, then immediately take it out. After this I did some deep breathing exercises to get my pulse down. Next I submerged my head and counted to five before resurfacing, followed by more focused breathing. Then I counted to ten while under the water.
After I reached thirty seconds in the bucket, Ron said, “It’s time for you to go back in the ocean. Once you get to the bottom of the ladder, hold on to the sides and do the same thing you just did in the bucket.”
I was hesitant, but he assured me he had been taking people snorkeling longer than I’d been alive and hadn’t lost one yet.
After I had counted to one hundred underwater, I popped up and proudly said to Ron, “I did it! I snorkeled!” With a huge smile on his face, he replied, “Now all you have to do is turn around, let go, and swim away.” I grinned back, and in one quick adrenaline-fueled move, I let go of the boat, spun around, and pushed off, kicking my fins as hard as I could. Once I was about twenty feet from the boat, I realized I still had my eyes closed. I internally laughed a little and opened my eyes with gleeful expectation.
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