If a person has a real, panic fear of water, and not just a subconscious fear of depth plus unpleasant sensations from water getting into the nose and ears, then all swimming teaching techniques starting with the item “First of all, learn to lower your head under water and exhale” go forest.
Try to explain to someone who cannot catch his breath from fear, when he went into the water further than waist-deep, that he “just” needs to completely immerse himself, thrusting his whole body into this frightening substance – and there is a high probability that you will be in a couple minutes will be pumped out, because the trainee in terror will climb onto the only “land” in the vicinity, that is, on you.
I was taught to swim, like most of those born three decades ago, according to the good old technique of “throw it into the water, and then it will float itself.” In any case, for most of the very good parents, this was considered the iron method. I will say in his defense that many of my peers learned to swim just like that. As for me, finding myself overboard of a boat, I drank terribly and fell into a terrible panic. It didn’t float by itself. Moreover, after that I categorically refused to dive even in the bathtub, and it was unpleasant for me to wash my head under the shower until I was quite conscious.
The second attempt to reconcile me with the water element was at the age of seven, when I was sent to the children’s pool. The coach did not bother with those who awkwardly pressed against the side and refused to peel off. As a correct child with an excellent student’s syndrome, I decided that now I would bravely move to the other side, where the others were doing, and somewhere along the way I lost my balance. From this stinking chlorinated water, which I pretty much swallowed, I was fished out with a special stick, slippery and just as smelly. Needless to say, I never went to the pool as a child?
What happens when you are really afraid of water?
All my swimming in open reservoirs for another twenty years began and ended at the coast, where there was a gentle entrance into the water, and I almost never went further than waist-deep. As soon as there was a feeling that I could lose my balance or the water was pushing me out – write was gone, uncontrollable horror actually rose from somewhere from the depths in a couple of seconds.
Then I made friends with an inflatable ring and even swam with it a couple of times to the buoys on the sea. Friendship with the circle ended when one day I somehow slipped out of it and did not feel the bottom under my feet. A man was floating by – to my joy and to his misfortune. We, together with the circle, climbed onto the stranger, shouting “Row to the shore!” He, just in case, obeyed – maybe he decided that he was captured by special water terrorists and it is better not to resist.
I no longer approached the circle (I think my savior also stayed away from people with the circle), but I really wanted to learn how to swim and generally stay on the water. Everything is according to the principle “I want it and it is injected”. I trained hard where there was the bottom under my feet, trying to at least tear off those very legs and not be afraid. There were no swimming courses then, as well as videos, and any advice from experienced people began with recommendations to shove your face under the water and exhale there. For me, putting my face under water is like being trapped in a jar of spiders.