I swam in the Atlantic today. Well I say swam, really it was more of a dip. But for me, so long as the head goes in and I float, it counts. It all began last Christmas when my beautiful aunt Pauline gave me a gift of a little book called I Found My Tribe by Ruth Fitzmaurice. I have to admit I knew nothing of this woman or her story, but the image on the cover of this beautiful woman looking out to sea somehow resonated with me, and before I knew it I had devoured the book in two days. I came away inspired, full of awe at this woman’s strength and hugely motivated to grab my life by the balls and live it 100%. I put out the call for a New Years’ Day dip to wave goodbye to the old year and welcome in the new, and so the ‘New Year Mermaids’ were born. We come from all walks of life, all ages and all shapes and sizes. Some of us are very capable swimmers, others simply ‘happy splashers’. Our mission is simple: to live in the moment, to feel the fear and do it anyway. Actually to feel the fear, give it two fingers and then do it anyway. Yes, we mermaids have serious attitude.
It’s now mid-February and still bloody Baltic. We arrive on the prom at Lahinch all muffled in our hats, scarves and coats. A few pleasantries are exchanged through chattering teeth and it’s more a case of ‘come on let’s get this done’ than any real desire to go in. We hastily disrobe and leave our clothes in higgledy piggledy piles by the sea wall. The slipway is hard and cold beneath our bare feet and the icy breeze whips our bare goosepimply limbs as we gingerly make our way across the gritty sand. This is not the first time I’ve done this; in fact it has become a pretty regular occurrence since that fateful New Year’s Day. Does it get easier? Nope. Yet I think my bloody-minded determination makes me think I’m getting used to it. The sea seems very far away today, further than usual, and this trot to the water’s edge is painfully cold… and yet we plough on. We giddily salute wet suited surfers and families bedecked in arctic gear who smile and shake their heads as we pass them by in our little swimsuits. My companion cheekily enquires of an elderly couple, ‘Will ye join us?!’ They decline with a visible shudder. On and on we go and now suddenly the foamy edge is near, the sand is getting wetter and colder and Jesus Christ! We’re in! No going back now.
Not that we want to go back. Because, you see, for us this act of insanity has somehow become our sanctuary, our therapy and our happy place. We rage against the waves and yet at the same time welcome them with open arms. It’s like being a happy carefree child again except we’re grown women. We continue to wade in, the wind laughing at our squeals. We splash icy water up onto our arms, chests and faces in an almost ceremonious movement like we are worshipping in some sacred waters. Deeper and deeper we go and bit by bit the painful cold gives way to euphoria and elation. It’s actually less cold in the water than out so we let the waves cover our bodies. Mad whoops of joy and big toothy grins are exchanged between us. The last hurrah is a jubilant dive into the waves. Some of us will swim a few strokes but I’m happiest lying on my back and floating for a few brief moments looking up at the sky. In those brief moments I feel so very alive and things become simpler. My mind becomes less fuzzy, less addled, and the stresses and worries which frequently plague me are washed clean away. In those brief moments, I am the one in control and the demons in my thoughts are insignificant and weak. It’s empowering, but it’s over all too soon.
The familiar pain of the cold begins to gnaw at the body; we look around and give each other the nod. It’s time to return to the shore and with high fives all round we make our way back. It’s another level of cold altogether as our bodies are exposed once again to the harsh wind. We emerge feeling a little taller, chatting excitedly through chattering teeth, elated and on a high. Photos are taken on mobile phones as proof that we actually did it and we joke about the calendar we’ll one day make.
The coffee and chats afterwards are just as important as the swim, sometimes more important because it’s over those steaming cups that we talk about our worries, our insecurities and our mental wellbeing. We reveal parts of ourselves that have often lain buried for years. We talk about the real stuff, the stuff that women are sometimes slow to discuss even among their closest friends. With this crowd it seems easy to open up, the layers melt away and we are as vulnerable and as cleansed as when we were back in the sea. Our Whatsapp group is called New Year Mermaids, a very tongue in cheek title and yet one which beautifully unites us. We speak about our little band of mermaids in terms of a tribe, of Wild Atlantic Women and a sisterhood.
I recently watched a YouTube mini documentary called Tonic of the Sea. In it a woman called Katie Maggs talks about how swimming in the sea helped her to find herself again after suffering with severe anxiety. After many sleepless nights she would take to walking on the beach with her camera while waiting for the sun to rise. As dawn approached she noticed swimmers entering the ocean and soon they asked her to join them. Before long she was a daily sea swimmer.
‘It made me feel brave again, and gave me a tiny little bit, every morning, of me back.’ Katie Maggs
Those words really hit home to me that in this crazy world of never ending stresses and anxieties things can get so on top of you that you can actually feel broken into tiny pieces. Fragmented to the point where you do not know how to get back to yourself. There is a yearning for life to be simpler, to make it so we can figure ourselves out and come home to ourselves once more. It can be difficult to find that mental space for quiet contemplation in our everyday living and so many have discovered the benefits of sea swimming to find that precious head space, a oneness and an understanding with nature to bring you home to yourself. For me sharing this unique experience with a band of strong beautiful mermaids makes it all the more special.
You can watch the beautiful short by Johnathan J Scott, Tonic of the Sea, here.
Note on the film: Tonic of the Sea is a mini-documentary showing the link between mental health and sea swimming. Katie swims off the rocks of Penzance, UK nearly everyday of the year. Swimming has helped her overcome some of the struggles that life all too often throws our way. The hope is that her story may help others who are faced with similar challenges. WATCH THE BEHIND THE SCENES – Film credits: Director: Jonathan J Scott Cinematographer: Jonathan J Scott BTS camera operator: Hana Backland Production support, camera operator, additional BTS: Toby Russell
Help information
If you need help please talk to friends, family, a GP, therapist or one of the free confidential helpline services. For a full list of national mental health services see yourmentalhealth.ie.
- Samaritans on their free confidential 24/7 helpline on 116-123, by emailing jo@samaritans.ie
- Pieta House National Suicide Helpline 1800 247 247 or email mary@pieta.ie – (suicide prevention, self-harm, bereavement) or text HELP to 51444 (standard message rates apply)
- Aware 1800 80 48 48 (depression, anxiety)
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