I was drowning

In a curiously sudden break of time, I found myself being thrown around in a mass of absolutely freezing water, unable to control the movements of my own body. This break of time is indescribable and I've never discussed it with anyone so I don't know if anyone else has experienced something similar. But a pause like this has happened to me four times. I know that because I remember each moment distinctly, and am able to recall my exact thoughts, sights, and feelings without hesitation. In that moment when my body was the subject of a frigid and unfamiliar water, I realized I was meant to be scared. And I wanted to be scared again.

I was in Wales, on a weekend trip away from London, and I was coasteering. The adventure sport was distinctive to the western UK country and I'd traveled out there on a whim, leaving behind every one of my flatmates and my friends to carry on to a heated pub where a pint of cider would be waiting for them: a typical Friday evening event.

I wasn't satisfied with that repetitive event, though. And by the end of November I was quite sad, and homesick. So I hopped on a train to Fishguard and less than 24 hours later, I felt like I was drowning in that body of water.

Nearly a year to the date of that moment, I feel alive when I remember it. Because I felt so alive in that instance that I will never be able to forget it.

What was homesickness hours earlier had turned to a plain rush. A rush for more lack of control. The feeling of lacking control made me feel, ironically, a sense why I should live.

When yet another wave crashed into me, I shook back into existence and laughed at what I had just experienced. I laughed uncontrollably because I knew what a crazy moment it was, and that I would never be able to truly explain it.

London, and the opportunities that CAPA presented to me, were invaluable. And I did not fully grasp to such extent, until I was sitting on my couch at home hours after landing in Boston. What a shame that was.