Kirryuin's Diary

30/12/2016

Hi.

Happy New Year's Eve Eve.

Today's topic is one that is very painful for me. It feels like an open wound, and I doubt it will ever really close. No it isn't one to do with family, or death, or love. 

It is about swimming.

I used to be a swimmer. I love water. I have been swimming since I was four. Everything I did was centered around swimming. Back in my home country, where only expensive schools had pools, I made sure I went to them. I did everything to ensure that I was swimming. I even changed school systems to continue swimming. (the national system is so academically demanding that there remains no room for extracurricular activities, so I went to a British System school).
I would wake up at four-thirty in the morning to go for morning training later in my swimming life. I would swim after school too. I even swam during my IGCSEs. (The International General of Secondary Education (IGCSE) is an English language curriculum offered to students to prepare them for , and (which is recommended for higher-tier students). It is based on the GCE and is recognised as being equivalent to the GCSE. I pulled up this definition from Wikipedia. IGCSE is basically a month-long period of exam. It sucks pretty bad.)
I went far in my swimming career too. I went to the Commonwealth Games and made many memories. Even though I wasn't nearly fast enough then, I tried my best, and I did a shitload of shopping and even got an allowance from the government. So it was all good.

Spoiler alert: it wasn't all good.
I finished high school, so it was time for college. I carefully looked for colleges that had swimming and an art program, and I finally managed to find one. A college in Kentucky. (I'm dying to call them out but I shouldn't.) I'll just say this now, my swimming life basically ended there. It was a very uneventful end. It was a lukewarm end. I had to transfer because they dropped my major and the only art teacher was retiring. I was actually thinking of staying, even though it made my very clear and defined future as clear as muddy water. But I didn't stay. I had to leave, and sacrifice swimming for my art. 
I don't know if anyone quite understands this feeling of ultimate regret and incompleteness. I had big dreams for my swimming career. I wanted to do everything I could to get myself to the Olympics. I wanted to carry my country's flag high, and do my best, battling against other people. To do that, I decided to go to America and continue swimming at the college level. I understood that I was not good enough, and I had reached that point where I was doubting if I really wanted to swim any more. But I was willing to work hard and somehow shake off the slump and keep going, even if I hated swimming to some degree because of how much I lacked.

But because of a series of unfortunate events, I had to leave swimming halfway. Back then, I was relieved. I now had so much time for me. I could do anything. But it's been quite a few months, and I only now realize how big and strangling this feeling of regret is. I could have gone so much further. I still had so much to experience in that world. Even though it was tough as hell, I still wanted to remain in that world. I still wanted to have the same fun a swimmer would. Now, I feel like I've been demoted to the normal world, and I really miss the world I used to occupy. I really miss pushing myself to my limits. I miss swimming so hard my legs went numb, or swimming so much my chest burned. I miss feeling like I was proving that I was alive. Sure, I made the decision for the sake of my art career and my general well being, but I still feel regret.

I feel regret, and that's my greatest fear ever. To live a life riddled with regrets. The feeling is so deep right now, that I don't even know if I can pick up my swimming life where I left off. It's gonna be a year soon, and I don't know if I still have the necessary things in me to continue competitive swimming. I'm doubting myself, whereas before there was no room for it.

I just want to go back to swimming somehow. This agony of normality, it is too much for me. I'd rather bear the agony of pushing myself to the limit in the water. 

Keeping a public diary is harder than I thought. People finally reading what's going on inside this mind. I feel a little like an exhibitionist actually haha.