The only reason I am documenting this experience is to maybe encourage others to go to therapy. I’ve discovered a lot about myself, and what happened to me. I would assume you good people know quite a bit about dealing with these kinds of issues. I should’ve known better than to go, I had dreams about it for christ sake! Too late now, I just hope no one else finds this place. I kept a diary at the time. Some of the entries are a little messy though, so I’ll see if anyone wants to see them before I put them out. You all have to promise me you don’t think I’m crazy here. I’m able to cope as best I can but… Eeh? The thing here is I couldn’t remember a thing for years. I only felt odd around bodies of water. Everything was completely wiped from my mind, for years, I had no idea what was wrong with me. Until my now wife convinced me to go to Mrs. Grace. As of this first post I really don’t remember much, I’m forty-nine now. These things happened over twenty years ago.
When I got out of college an odd allergic reaction began. I don’t remember the last time I had a shower before this event. I was trying to take a bath, something I don’t normally do. The rushing water put me on edge, but I was fine once the tub was full. My foot dipped into the bath. My throat constricted; my vision first blurred then left me all together. As of right then I could not breathe, and it seemed to worsen the more water got on me. Frantically I tried to get out of the bath. I doubled over in the most gut wrenching pain I have ever experienced. Not physical pain, I felt a thousand voices telling me no. The burn from them was so hot it left a trail from my lungs into my eyes. Then I blacked out on the floor.
No one found me. I wasn’t living with anyone, no one called. I remember being confused at the time as to why my mother hadn’t checked in on me, as it turns out she died two weeks after I left for college. I was thinking, “Ok, maybe my blood sugar is low- something. Oh well.” I got a snack and went to bed.
The next morning, I tried again to wash my nasty self, this time a quick shower before work, I forget where I worked, maybe some sort of pizza joint. I turned on the faucet. Something tells me I have done something wrong, like something beyond my control is angry with me. Like something wants to get me, this bothers me of course. This feeling is heavily exacerbated by water getting on my hand. Something I did not intend to do when I tried to turn the water off. My throats closing, eyes wet with tears I flail back, and hit my head on the kitchen sink.
About maybe five hours later I’m up. There is dried blood all over the side of my neck and head. Fuck it, missed work might as well go to the doctor. I guess that’s what I was thinking, because I don’t remember anything else but that’s the year I was diagnosed with anxiety.
Now, that really doesn’t apply to me now, and I do not believe that was any kind of anxiety. Mrs. Grace thinks it has something to do with water. I still don’t like it. I tolerate it.