August 19th, 2005, Koh Tao
Still afloat on my big UE (as in overseas experience, just underwater) I began to feel nauseous once we were off for bed. I was looking for appropiate places to vomit because a giant cockroach-bouncer kept me away from the toilet. I was going back to bed and getting up again every few minutes because I was queasy. My friend suggested to take the bin and relax in the hammock. Great idea!
Anways. I was fine in the end. False alarm. Many years later I learned at my behaviour therapy about this vicious circle – how the fear of vomiting actually causes similar symptoms so it just gets worse…
The next morning I sticked to a slice of toast, peanutbutter and banana. Less in, less out, I thought. A little later we boarded the boat with 10 random people and went up the coast. The anchor was dropped at different (same same) spots to snorkel and after a few minutes we were called back and counted one by one. (RE: Stuff that movies are made of…)
To make sure enough fishes would be encountered, they threw bait overboard. PLEASE! No big, bloody, chunky bits!
And here we go again: E F… E F… EF… EF… EFEFEFEF. Jaws, yo! Right back in my head. Playing loud. And I felt sick again.
Blame it on the sea condition or my own state of mind. I was not going to dive into that water again and actually preferred watching the snorklers watching the fishes. Yeah, it is like that: When I feel sick I cannot be brave. I can only crouch down, feel small and wait for it to be over soon… So that’s what I did boating. Whoop!
But I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo.
What the hell am I doing here?
I don’t belong here. (Creep – Radiohead)