One unforgettable day, after they had tried unsuccessfully to cajole me into the water, one of the housemothers decided to help me overcome my fear. She did this by picking me up bodily, and hurling me into the pool.
My descriptive powers are not able to properly convey my utter terror, as I found myself floundering out of my depth. Panicking wildly I desperately attempted to reach the safety of the side. To no avail, and I swallowed mouthfuls of water as I sank down. Coming up for air I could see them standing there, as they watched me unsuccessfully try to swim. My cries for help were ignored, and only resulted in more water entering my lungs.
|Title: 'The Drowning Pool'. 24x18. Click to enlarge.|
The next I remember was being wrapped in a towel, and being left in the changing room to dress myself. I made my way alone back to the house. The journey home is vague, but I recall being unable to breathe properly through my nose, and vomiting several times as I walked.
Unsurprisingly, this dramatic attempt at helping me overcome my fear of the water was unsuccessful. It was many years before I was able to try swimming again. I did learn to swim, but I will not go out of my depth.
Sometimes I wish I could confront some of those wicked, thoughtless, so called carers. Oh the things I would like to say to them!
Painting this picture has been an emotional experience. The paint is likely to contain a few tears.