The Misery Guts

Friday 16th April 2010, 11.30am, Robinson Crusoe Island

We're still living on Robinson Crusoe Island, still sunbathing and reading and sleeping like it's going out of fashion. We do go kayaking though, and snorkeling, ahh yes, snorkeling. We went out on the boat yesterday about 20 minutes from the island to some deeper coral reefs and I almost had a heart attack when, peacefully swimming along, a member of our group spotted a couple of rather large reef sharks skimming through the water below us. I believe I have previously mentioned my hatred of these creatures but I don't believe anyone understands quite how much they bother me. On the discovery that I was a mere 4ft above them and in their territory I began to uncontrollably shake and cry, and very nearly vomited. Ella was the most helpful, simply saying, "Keep your head out the water Grace, it's nearly over, I'll tell you when they're gone." Everyone else was quick to try and calm me down by offering platitudes such as "Reef sharks won't hurt you Grace, they're harmless!" and all wore confused expressions that suggested they were frustrated by my overreaction.

This is how I know that people do not understand. The knowing that these sharks weren't about to eat me does not make a blind bit of difference to the fear and physical symptoms of panic I feel upon seeing them. That's the point about phobias, they are not rational reactions, they are visceral manifestations of a feeling we can't control and telling someone who is mortally terrified of sharks to "chill out" whilst she's in the water with them is about as useful as telling someone having an asthma attack to "just breathe". Will the cartoon sharks in Finding Nemo jump out of the TV and bite me? No. But can I bring myself to come out from behind a pillow and watch that bit of the film? No I cannot. Do I know that there are no sharks in the swimming pool at my gym? Yes I do. But if I think about them when swimming does my heart beat out of my chest and my breathing become difficult? Yes it does. Do I realise that my bed is not floating on water and if my arm is hanging over the side there won't be any sharks underneath me to come and chew it off? Yes, I realise this. But will I still pull that arm straight back under the duvet to safety? Yes, yes I will. See, it's nonsense, verging on clinical insanity, not something that can be dissuaded with "chill out". I'm actually rather pleased with the progress I've made; I swim in the sea and jump off boats and go snorkeling without too much thought these days. It's all about small manageable steps, and actually swimming with them is far beyond my definition of manageable.

So I've not gone snorkeling out on the reef today, and some of the other islanders seem to think this makes me a killjoy, and so I quite feel like spending the day by myself. I'm not in the best mood anyway, nothing to do with the island, not the sharks' fault, I'm just feeling rather subdued and contemplative. It doesn't help that I have been jokingly accused today of being 'grumpy' and 'unsociable'. I am aware of the fact that many a true word is said in jest, two can play at that game, so I "jokingly" suggested that yes, I am unsociable today, so why don't you take the hint and leave me alone? Ha ha ha. So that's what I'm doing today, sitting perfectly content at the far end of the beach, only really talking to Ella, and letting everyone else think I'm the most miserable sod on the planet if that's what they want to believe. In the words of my favourite Friends character, I'm finding it very hard to give a tiny rat's ass.

I know I must sound like a cantankerous, curmudgeonly old spoilsport, forgive my moans and groans. It's just that in normal life I'm not a naturally happy-clappy, sunny side of the street kind of a gal. I'm a cynic, an occasional pessimist, I've a sense of humour drier than the Sahara desert, and I don't mind my own company. Near on 5 months of constant excitement and joy needs to occasionally take a break from itself and release me into a state of self willed grumpiness, a 24 hour chance to match the laughter lines with some frown lines. I'll probably read back on this in a few weeks time and scold myself for being such an ungrateful misery guts. Right now though, I'm wallowing in it.