Monday 20 February 2012

Swimming Lesson.

Perhaps it was because of my horrendous childhood experiences of bath night with the wicked Miss Dee, when she would rinse the shampoo from my hair by forcibly pushing my head under the water, that I was incredibly nervous at the compulsory swimming lessons. You would find me standing at the edge of the pool, desperately trying to avoid being roped into going into the water.

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.
I thought I was going to die. Why wouldn't they help me? I could see the two women through the water. I could hear the muted cries of some of the other kids muffled by the water. My strength, was failing. I could no longer fight, stopped struggling and let the water take me. I cannot recall if my past life flashed before me. If it did, it would have been quick, as I had not had much of a past, being only six or seven years old at the time.

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.      

12 comments:

  1. I nearly drowned twice as a child...once you relax and stop fighting..it's all rather peaceful.
    Jane x

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  2. I never did learn to swim. My mother told a similar story about her father (or someone in her family) throwing her in to teach her to swim. Didn't work on her and she never did learn either.

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  3. Although I learned how to swim before I could walk, I just don't understand the theory of throwing someone in to "teach" them anything.

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  4. And you became a sailor? Somewhere inside your defiance took over and you decided to overtake your fear.

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  5. I didn't learn how to swim because we had a horrible teacher. I was terrified, didn't get thrown in but was told to do a handstand under the water. Of course I couldn't I just waved my arms and legs and splashed around a lot. In the end I used to forge my fathers signature on an excuse note, and never went to the baths again. Your painting is scarey.

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  6. I can't believe the cruelty that went on. Rough waves ducked me once. I couldn't swim and was terrified so I know how you felt, but to be heartlessly thrown in doesn't bear thinking about. That woman should have been horsewhipped.

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  7. Oh my gosh, how horrific. Those so-called 'carer's' were sadistic. I also have a fear of water and never overcame it. I remember being dragged to the deep end having that inflatable ring around me, and someone pulling the plug out of it so that I sank. I was also threatened with drowning by some mean kids. I had to smile at Meanqueen's comment when she said she used to forge her father's signature to get out of swimming lessons. I was so terrified of it happening again, so did I.

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  8. John, that painting frightened me even before I read the post. I was brought for swimming lessons too, but never quite got the knack of it so can't swim to this day and don't go near the water accordingly.

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  9. I cannot believe how these sort of people could get jobs caring for children. I ca,t imagine the fear and hatred you must have been trough. Full marks for learning to swim in the end.

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  10. Wow. What a malicious housemother. How could they ever think they were doing any good by inflicting so much terror? Before i read beyond the first paragraph, i thought your life story was going to be about your fear of swimming because you imagined Miss Dee in the water trying to pull you down! (I chuckled) Only to realize the deeper emotion embedded within. The angle and movement of this painting is so beautiful and is immediately struck with a strong feeling of panic that speaks for itself. Those feet looking down, so oblivious.

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  11. Dear God, how traumatic--and abusive. And then to leave you alone to fend for yourself to get home when you clearly should have been tended to. My heart aches for that little boy. You have overcome much and to hear about your son so lovingly(which translates--you're a great father), proves it.

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  12. You're not at all alone with this one. I call myself The Everyday Adventurer, but that doesn't include the water. I am terrified of deep water. My experience was one of being hurled from a diving board.

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