This post is part of a series looking back on my experiences in navigating a life-changing ADHD diagnosis while also trying to prepare for my first solo marathon swim, and how these two things collided together in the most perfect way.
I’ve chosen to share my story openly so that it might help others who also dream of accomplishing big scary goals but feel held back by challenges they face in their own lives, no matter what those might be. I also hope my writing creates discussion, understanding, acceptance and inclusion for those that seek it.
This is a deeply personal journey. You're invited to engage in positive and productive discourse with me if you'd like, always happy to chat, but negative judgement isn't welcome here. Kindly move along if these posts – and me – are not for you!
Lac Memphremagog - Newport, Vermont September 2024
This week's the last window for this season's Search swimmers, it was a year ago tonight I stepped into the water and we made our way across that lake. I've enjoyed writing these posts and talking with swimmers who have gone through similar experiences or who simply followed along because they found it interesting to learn more. I hope we keep creating safe spaces to talk about heavy shit, it's how we also get to the light.
I wrote about vulnerability in my first post in this series, but all of these posts stem from a place of vulnerability in sharing some pretty personal stuff. I see the willingness in myself to be vulnerable as a strength, it's not an easy thing to speak openly about who you are, how you're built, knowing that others may judge you. I do care about being judged, it's perfectly normal to want to be accepted by your peers and your community, so long as you don't let it govern who you are. But I care more about sharing my experiences so that someone at the start of their own journey - marathon swimming, wellness, whatever - has a place to look to for information and knows there's no shame in talking about things that are hard.
I consider myself to be very lucky.
There's this thing that happens to a lot of people who get their ADHD or other similar diagnoses later in life. At first it feels liberating and validating to understand yourself better, finally it all starts to make sense and you find resources available to help manage your symptoms. But as things start to settle and improve, you can't help but also look back at your life, especially your early formative years, and realize that had things been different it might not have been so hard to deal with. And even though you're in the process now of undoing the damage caused over the years - which is a very positive thing - for many people looking back also ushers in a profound sense of mourning, frustration and anger even, for what could have been but wasn't. This can come on fast and hard and quite out of the blue, because for so long you'd seen yourself (and at times were made to feel) as the reason for it. YOU didn't fit in well, YOU were less capable, but all you really needed was to understand yourself better and access to resources and supports to help you manage things.
I'm lucky, because this process was quicker and less painful for me than for many others. I did have upset feelings for sure, especially when I thought back to my school years and how awful some of my teachers were at the time when I couldn't meet expectations that were probably normal to expect of a student. What helped me through all this was to re-frame my experiences from a different perspective - as my mind went back over some of my more difficult memories, I held on to a thought that helped me see things in a new light:
The tools that could have helped me simply weren't available back then, and people didn't have access to information as they do now. It sucked at times, but it wasn't anyone's fault.
And each memory that had been painful lifted up a little, I was able to re-imagine it in a new context, one not driven by the experience of emotions alone. It brought acceptance, peace.
Why am I lucky? Re-framing worked well for me, maybe it was the right thing, maybe it was the right time. But I know from observing others that not everyone gets there the same way and sometimes not at all. It's a process, and you have to work through it as you need to, I'll come back to that in a bit at the end but let's talk about re-framing as a tool first.
The power of re-framing heavy things, and finding light
I had an interesting chat with a swim friend a few weeks ago that got me thinking, it went something like this:
The Search, for something deeper.
Memphre, the monster within.
I had never really thought about either of these things when getting ready for The Search last year, which is surprising considering that I tend to draw on symbolism for all kinds of things in my life.
And I had been working on a lot of heavy shit leading up to the swim, finally accepting my diagnoses, finding tools that helped my training, working to strengthen my mindset, building up my confidence, standing up for myself and my needs more.
But even with all that, I had never thought of Memphre as anything other than a symbol of joy, light, adventure, a wild and playful spirit.
I reflected on that interaction, it sat with me for days, it was kinda beautiful to think of the swim as symbolic of something deeper. I suppose they do call it The Search for a reason.
But what if we re-framed it a little?
The earliest references to a creature living in Lac Memphremagog depict it as a darkness moving under the water, something to fear, a warning to stay away from the water. There aren't many written sources, and what exists today has likely been written down from oral traditions from Canada's First Nations peoples living on the northern side of the lake.
"They saw a monster dark and grim. Coming with coiling surge and swim, With lifted head and tusk and horn, Fierce as the spirit of Hades born."
Norman Bingham, The Sea Serpent Legend, 1926.
But if you trace Memphre's story to present day - and marketing gimmicks aside - you'll find it has evolved over time, and she's now a celebrated symbol on both sides of the border. Just look at what Phil White, the swim director for The Search, has built up on that lake, an incredible community of swimmers that gather summer and winter, with Memphre as their beloved mascot, in what's got to be the most joyful celebrations of swimming I've ever seen. There's a lot of light on that lake today, and we are all very lucky to take part.
What if this swim, or any swim really, is an opportunity to move some part of you from dark into light too? All stories have the possibility to evolve, if we let them.
What if standing at the start in the darkness of night is your moment to be fully present for yourself? Believe deep down that you deserve to be there and to succeed, no matter what heavy shit you're carrying.
And you are literally swimming from night into day, and from dark into light. It doesn't get any more symbolic than that. Swimmers usually hit Owl's Head Mountain at sunrise, and Memphre will be slumbering in the cavern below, give her a little nod as you pass on by...
What else can you draw on in your life to help re-frame heavy things?
A well-meaning word of caution
As I said, I consider myself to be very lucky.
But that's all it was, luck. Re-framing was the right tool to help me move past things, but everyone's journey is different. I don't consider myself to be stronger than someone else who struggles with their own journey or in acceptance of what they carry. It probably isn't easy to understand how profound some experiences can be and how heavy they can sit sometimes. We're trained to think positive, choose happiness, own our own destinies, and if you don't/can't (or won't, as is sometimes the outward-looking assumption) get there the way others expect you to, you must not be trying hard enough, or maybe you're just weak.
What I'm about to say isn't popular opinion, but it's worth thinking about: even if you've walked in those shoes yourself and have things all nicely figured out, the kindest thing you can do is to hold your judgement of others as they work through they own shit. I read somewhere that consideration is the highest form of love, truly seeing and understanding the needs of others, and responding with kindness and empathy. I agree.
My journey to The Search helped me see things differently, needing these things for myself helped me better consider the role of empathy and support more. Humans are designed to observe and judge things, it's how we make sense of the world. But judgment can also fuel the ego, gives it a little superiority bump, whenever I feel that coming on I try to ask myself, what's that need really serving in me? I'm not perfect, but I will always try my best. And I'm more careful now with how I use words like "powerful" and "weakness" in reference to what others need or who they are. About myself, sure, I will speak about myself using any terms I please. But words like these are a dichotomy, and they can knowingly/unknowingly serve to foster shame, division and judgement.
The world doesn't need more of this from any of us.
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