by Hal Brown, MSW (my bio — my blog — international readers)
A True Story
After my wife died I stopped going to our favorite beach, Little Harbor, which was just 25 minutes from our house on the mainland side of the Cape Cod Canal. We spent glorious times there from late spring to early fall almost every day. It is a lovely Wareham town beach on the calm protected waters of Buzzard’s Bay which never got crowded.
One grey but warmish day one in late summer, figuring it wouldn’t be too crowded, I decided to take the nearly 90 minute drive from where we lived in Middleboro to Horseneck Beach State Park beach. This isn’t a Cape Cod beach, rather it is on the mainland located on a spit of land jutting out into the Atlantic. (Below: Click to enlarge map)
The beach wasn't all that crowded, probably about half the usual crowd The well trained ocean lifeguards were all sitting on the towers about 50 yards apart scanning the water. I sat halfway between two of the lifeguard towers where it was less crowded.
Unlike the calm waters of Little Harbor beach, the surf there usually had moderate waves rolling in at about three feet high with a four-footer every five or six waves. (Below: Click here to enlarge picture)
This was fun surf to play in whether with a noodle or another floatation device, or just unassisted. Young children could play safely close to the shore where the waves had already broke and older children and adults could venture a little further out where they could still stand and enjoyed the waves. The more venturesome could play in the waves where the water was over their head.
I’d been swimming regularly about four times a week at the Y doing half mile to a mile at a time. I wasn't a great swimmer but I had a decent free style.
When I got to the beach I set a small blanket down with my towel and a little cooler with drinks and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in it, and ran into the foaming surf.
I wanted to do some serious swimming so I plodded through the waves managing to stay on my feet then I swam a shot distance trying to reach where the sea was calm. Before I could get there a rip current grabbed me and I found myself being taken quickly further from the beach.
My instinct took over and I tried to fight the current and swim back to shore. I swam about 15 strong but futile strokes into the current which fought back against me until I felt exhaustion taking over. Then thankfully I realized what had happened to me. It hit me that I was caught in a rip current.
I remembered what you’re supposed to do (see enlarged illustration). There are two ways to escape from a rip current, neither swimming against it. One is to let it take you out where the waves were still breaking and to try to find a spot where it is possible to swim left or right to get out of it. My current was moving too fast for that so I opted for the second method.
I just dog paddled keeping myself afloat and facing the beach and I let the current take me about 50 feet or so further out. Time slowed down, but then so did my racing heart and I started to get my wind back.
And then I was in a totally calm sea. I could see the back sides of the breaking waves and the sand dunes behind the beach. I couldn't see the beach but of course I knew it was there.
I mustered my energy dog paddling for a few minutes and with some trepidation began swimming slowly parallel to the beach for about five minutes, maybe more. Like I said, it was difficult to judge how much time had gone by.
Then, hoping for the best, I turned to the beach and swam to the breaking waves and up the back of the first swell. Nothing pushed me back so I kept swimming. The first wave, a small one, curled and broke and pushed me towards the beach.
What a relief. I realized I had made it. I’d survived. The next wave broke over me and pushed me even closer to the shore. So it went, wave after wave pushing me so I barely had to swim, all I had to do was keep hold me hands outstretched keeping my face out of the water, kick my feet, and let the wave do the work.
I felt not only relief but a sense of triumph and actually enjoyed body surfing my way back to shore. That was until I had to stand up and actually walk and realized my legs had turned to jelly.
I collapsed on my blanket, ate my sandwich, and decided that the ocean would have to wait another day before this summer took the plunge again so once I was rested I drove home.
For all I know a lifeguard had been watching me all the time ready to save me, but I never found out.
My point, if you haven't figured it out, is that when you feel overwhelmed by currents of Trump anxiety it is best to stop, think, and figure out the best way which works for you to go with the flow until your anxiety is manageable.
The lesson for this month from getting caught in a rip tide is to try not to panic. Figure out the best way to get through the month with feeling overwhelmed. Muster your strength and use it wisely.
Here are some very recent articles about how to best cope with your own anxiety which you may find helpful:
How to Handle the Stress Between Now and Election Day
Can We Get Through This Election Season with Our Mental Health Intact?
How to Cope With Election Anxiety, According to the American Psychological Association
The Poll:
Here are the most common anxiety signs and symptoms from the Mayo Clinic:
- Feeling nervous, restless or tense
- Having a sense of impending danger, panic or doom
- Having an increased heart rate
- Breathing rapidly (hyperventilation)
- Sweating
- Trembling
- Feeling weak or tired
- Trouble concentrating or thinking about anything other than the present worry
- Having trouble sleeping
- Experiencing gastrointestinal (GI) problems
- Having difficulty controlling worry
- Having the urge to avoid things that trigger anxiety
- Other less common signs and symptoms listed here
If you didn't already have anxiety problems how many of these do you experience now, and if you had anxiety problems how many of these have gotten significantly worse?