Writer's Club #9: In The Middle

Include this article in your Skills Builder Journal. It could help you develop.. 

A little while ago, we held a competition to create a new club of writers. Over the next few weeks, we’ll be introducing you to our winners, and the entries they submitted that got them their spot! This entry was submitted by Rhyia and is all about the fine balance between having fun and managing your anxiety…

The sun rising. The ocean calm. Campervan doors wide open. I was living right in the middle of what I used to dream about. We did it. We got a van. We got a van with a double bed, a stove, a fridge and a wardrobe. We had everything we needed to be free and travel the country. Our first trip in the van was in spring. Just a three-day trip in between work and other commitments back at home. 

One afternoon, we drove two and a half hours down to Sandbanks. We found a nice spot to park the camper, then strolled along the beach until the sun went down. The next day, we woke up for sunrise, squeezed into our wetsuits and ran into the not-so-tropical sea. Okay, that was an understatement. We ran into the freezing cold sea. But cold-water therapy is the new trend to help you live a more fulfilling life. Swimming outdoors until you can’t tell if you’re freezing or burning or numb. Filled with adrenaline or complete shock and pain. The depths that we’ll go to, to cure whatever it is that bubbles inside our heads. Anyway, it was fun. We got out, got dry, drank hot chocolate on the sand and continued along the coastline, to Bournemouth. 

We bagged the perfect parking spot this time - £2 for 24 hours. Sea view. Free toilets and showers nearby. This is what van-life is all about! We walked for hours, taking photos, exploring the piers and the gardens. Then, at the peak of the heat, we stripped down to our swimsuits and spent the rest of the day sunbathing. Again, we ran into the ocean. But this time the gap between freezing or burning was even less. Pain. Pain. Pain. Stay in a little longer. Pain. Live a more fulfilling life. Pain. Pain. And we ran back to our towels, unsure whether to cry or laugh. The rest of the day consisted of more sunbathing. Bliss. 

The moon pushed the sun away and we were back in our van. Other drivers had left the car park by now, so silence sifted through the air. We fried up some vegan sausages and while doing so, we agreed that we didn’t need to play any music from our phones. Sifting through silence was peaceful enough. The sizzling pan intertwined with the whistle of the waves. Perfect. We ate our van-cooked dinner. Played chess. Chatted for a while. Then we went to bed. Satisfied. Grateful. Happy. 

Our last day down south was spent in Bournemouth again. We woke up well rested, but a little later than we had planned. Still, the sun was rising. Ocean calm. We went down to the beach, sat on a rock with a bowl of cereal each. Cookie Crisp for my boyfriend. Cinnamon Squares for me. Then we headed back to our camper to get our skateboards and enjoy a nice morning cruise along the promenade. But we didn’t. I want to skate. But what if someone looks at me? The sky looks nice. But I want to lay in the black-out van. I want to make the most of our last day. But can we go straight home? But can we go straight home? 

I was living right in the middle of what I used to dream about. Yet, anxiety and stress and low self-esteem and whatever else my head bubbles about, was bubbling. We skipped our cold-water swim ritual. We woke up later than intended. We were heading home that day, which meant I had to dive back into my uni work. Anxiety, stress, anxiety, stress. Sometimes unexplainable.

My boyfriend let me lay in the black-out van for a while. I phoned my mum. I watched my boyfriend skate past the window of the camper every so often. He came back. “You have two minutes to change into your wetsuit.” He counted me down. I said I didn’t want to. He counted me down. I said I was too tired. He counted me down and something clicked. Two minutes, let’s go! We got down to the beach and two paddle boards were waiting for us, courtesy of my lovely boyfriend.

We paddled. Jumped into the sea. Laughed. Paddled. Anxiety and stress? I’ve never even heard of it! 

Sometimes our heads fill up with bubbles. We do our cold-water therapy, we exercise, we read, we meditate, we speak to someone, we move into a van. Anything to keep the bubbles from popping. But sometimes, the bubbles pop. And we need to take some time. Steer the bubbles back into our reach. We are right in the middle of what we once dreamed about. But bubbles can still pop. No matter where you are in the world. No matter the rising sun or the calm sea. Bubbles can still pop. 

Check out some of our other Writers’ Club winning submissions! Here’s Eve’s piece on tackling the climate crisis, and Jay’s piece on the importance of mental health in the transgender community.