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Description
"Shh, it's OK. Try again. Come on."
   I looked at my psychologist and backed away. He grabbed me gently. "You can do it."
   I stopped and looked down at the water. It was frightening me. Looking up at me with its leery surface. I froze. This was dangerous.
   "I don't want to." Tears began climbing their way down my eyes. "Please don't make me."
   "I won't make you do anything. But I believe you can do this. I believe you are strong."
   I looked up at his face. It had a serene look over it, and his eyes were kind. I looked down at my bikini. A frail thin body screamed "get away from here!". Was I to ignore it?
   Yes. I'm here to overcome my fear. Time to face it.
   I squeezed my watcher's hand one last time, took a deep breath and jumped into pool. Water trapped me from every direction and I was deep down. I had suddenly forgotten how to breathe, and I was choking on water. Panic assaulted me and I wanted to scream. I should not have done this. I should have known better. I was going to die. I knew it.
   And suddenly I was up above the surface again. I panted heavily and could feel my entire body shake. How much time had passed? I looked up at him.
   "You did it."
   "How did I get up again?"
   "John here pulled you up. I told you he wouldn't leave you unprotected."
John. The lifeguard who said he wouldn't leave my side. I hadn't felt him tugging me up. He smiled at me. How could he smile? I nearly drowned.
   "One more time?" John still smiled.
   "Let her breathe for a minute first. I think she'd appreciate that."
   I nodded faintly. I was so scared. The anxiety of being underwater had not yet passed.
   "No more," I said quietly. "Not again."
   "I know it's hard, but don't you want to overcome your fear? That's why we're here, isn't it?"
   I shivered. "Yeah."
   "One more time then?"
   I stood up unsteadily and gazed down at the water. Then I jumped in before I could think.
   Again I was enveloped by water and the panic seethed into my mind. I couldn't breathe and I knew that this was it. My heart was racing and despite being underwater, I could feel myself shake.
This time I could feel John's hands pulling me up. His hands were rough, but his grip was gentle. He pulled me up and I could breathe again. But now my face was wetter than ever, the tears rushing down my cheeks. I couldn't sit still, and I nearly cried out from anxiety.
   My psychologist was right by my side and held me tight. He said nothing, merely held me and stroked my hair. I didn't feel safe, not yet, but I was glad he was there. I wasn't alone in this.
   We sat there for a while, I was too messed up to keep track of the time. I shook, he embraced me. I cried, he wiped away the tears. Finally, I fell asleep, he let me lean on his shoulder. For a long while, he let me rest on his arms. No one else would have been able to calm me down like he did.
My psychologist meant the world to me. He made this passage over water somewhat less unbearable. He was like an angel.
   He stayed with me when I over and over again dove into the pool and was pulled up by John. Finally, I said enough.
   I overcame my fear that day, only it didn't feel like a day, but like weeks, months, years. Time stood still.
   And through all this I wished for one thing only. Other than the panic, one thought came to mind.
   That my psychologist, the shelter and support I sorely needed, would have been real.

Description
"Shh, it's OK. Try again. Come on."
   I looked at my psychologist and backed away. He grabbed me gently. "You can do it."
   I stopped and looked down at the water. It was frightening me. Looking up at me with its leery surface. I froze. This was dangerous.
   "I don't want to." Tears began climbing their way down my eyes. "Please don't make me."
   "I won't make you do anything. But I believe you can do this. I believe you are strong."
   I looked up at his face. It had a serene look over it, and his eyes were kind. I looked down at my bikini. A frail thin body screamed "get away from here!". Was I to ignore it?
   Yes. I'm here to overcome my fear. Time to face it.
   I squeezed my watcher's hand one last time, took a deep breath and jumped into pool. Water trapped me from every direction and I was deep down. I had suddenly forgotten how to breathe, and I was choking on water. Panic assaulted me and I wanted to scream. I should not have done this. I should have known better. I was going to die. I knew it.
   And suddenly I was up above the surface again. I panted heavily and could feel my entire body shake. How much time had passed? I looked up at him.
   "You did it."
   "How did I get up again?"
   "John here pulled you up. I told you he wouldn't leave you unprotected."
John. The lifeguard who said he wouldn't leave my side. I hadn't felt him tugging me up. He smiled at me. How could he smile? I nearly drowned.
   "One more time?" John still smiled.
   "Let her breathe for a minute first. I think she'd appreciate that."
   I nodded faintly. I was so scared. The anxiety of being underwater had not yet passed.
   "No more," I said quietly. "Not again."
   "I know it's hard, but don't you want to overcome your fear? That's why we're here, isn't it?"
   I shivered. "Yeah."
   "One more time then?"
   I stood up unsteadily and gazed down at the water. Then I jumped in before I could think.
   Again I was enveloped by water and the panic seethed into my mind. I couldn't breathe and I knew that this was it. My heart was racing and despite being underwater, I could feel myself shake.
This time I could feel John's hands pulling me up. His hands were rough, but his grip was gentle. He pulled me up and I could breathe again. But now my face was wetter than ever, the tears rushing down my cheeks. I couldn't sit still, and I nearly cried out from anxiety.
   My psychologist was right by my side and held me tight. He said nothing, merely held me and stroked my hair. I didn't feel safe, not yet, but I was glad he was there. I wasn't alone in this.
   We sat there for a while, I was too messed up to keep track of the time. I shook, he embraced me. I cried, he wiped away the tears. Finally, I fell asleep, he let me lean on his shoulder. For a long while, he let me rest on his arms. No one else would have been able to calm me down like he did.
My psychologist meant the world to me. He made this passage over water somewhat less unbearable. He was like an angel.
   He stayed with me when I over and over again dove into the pool and was pulled up by John. Finally, I said enough.
   I overcame my fear that day, only it didn't feel like a day, but like weeks, months, years. Time stood still.
   And through all this I wished for one thing only. Other than the panic, one thought came to mind.
   That my psychologist, the shelter and support I sorely needed, would have been real.