Curious Incidents of a Flailing Mermaid

Day Twenty-Nine: Decisions! Decisions!

I did walk away from WDC last night and went to the cinema to see a comedy. I think I feel much better. It helps that I had some really lovely reviews waiting for me when I woke up this morning.
Today, I really want to reply to all the reviews I’ve received in the last month (I’ve been very slack in responding) and I want to get a good chunk of reviews done as well. So, I’ll be here all day!

Now, for today’s blog I need to talk about a recent hard decision I’ve had to make. I’m not entirely sure how far back “recent” covers. However, I’m going to take you back a few years – for a couple of reasons. Firstly, it might seem odd to you, but this blog covers the biggest decision of my life. Secondly, I’ve never written about this before – not properly. Here goes.

Prompt for day twenty-nine: Recall a recent monumental decision you had to make recently. On the first day (today), share with us the decision you made and the outcome of your choice. Was the outcome generally good or bad? On the second day (tomorrow), you have a chance to make a different decision. If you choose to change your decision, write about how that choice would affect your life now. If you decide to stay with the decision you made, explain why.

Let me take you back to August 2010. On the 21st I won the World Championship title in the 50m Backstroke – a gold medal that I definitely was not expecting to win! Just two years away from the London 2012 Paralympic games, I was back on top. I was on track to achieve my dream of a Paralympic gold medal. Not bad having just had a year and a half off due to injury and needing surgery. On the 28th I met Chris, the man who would later become the love of my life and my future husband. Everything was amazing.
Two weeks later, I sat on the floor in the corner of my living room, tears flowing down my cheeks, holding two things in my hands. In my left hand, I held my shiny gold medal; in my right hand I held a piece of paper with information printed from the Internet. The information the piece of paper held was evidence that the 50m Backstroke would not be included in the London 2012 Paralympic Games programme. My dream, it seemed, would not come, true after all.
I made every effort to fight the decision. Needless to say, the decision was final and I had no chance of changing thing, no matter how good my argument was! Little did I know that, at the time, that day was the beginning of a year-long battle with depression. Seems ridiculous, doesn’t it? A world champion suffering with depression, how daft!

Fast forward to July 2011.

Despite being pretty unwell, I had qualified for the European Championships. After losing my number one race from the games, my first reaction was to quit. But I had unfinished business and I thought I may be able to pull it together for the other races I had available to me.
Prior to the Euros, I was a bit of a mess and the team were debating about whether I would be able to go at all. The team doctor, Derek, backed me up though and I was able to join the team – a few days late. I should say a few words about Derek before I continue my story.

Derek was my favourite person on the GB swimming team. He was (is) an amazing doctor and incredible friend. He was always there to pick me up and put me back together when things didn’t go right. He was the greatest asset the team ever had!

So, I competed in the Euros, which went horribly wrong. I discovered that two new, 16-year-old, swimmers had arrived on the scene – they were stupidly fast. In my first race I won bronze – if we’d competed two months before it would have been gold, without the new girls. I remember just sobbing. Making an idiot of myself as I broke down in the medal winners room.
I came 4th in the 50m Backstroke. However, I did not shed a tear for this one, nor for the second bronze I got. Instead, something had changed in me. Something had distinguished the fire, the passion, in me. I spent the majority of those two weeks away, when I wasn’t competing, in my room or watching my team. The team had once felt like my second family, but the more I watched them, the less I wanted to see them. My love for my sport had gone. I needed to decide whether it was worth continuing until London 2012. So, I spent the last few days away working out my chances of qualifying and medalling. On the very last day, it dawned on me that I had no chance of doing either: the new girls had gone so fast that the qualifying times would be way out of my reach – not without nearly killing myself in the process. I wasn’t willing to do that anymore.

The final race of the competition was the women’s relay. As I stood watching the team cheer the GB girls to a gold medal, a figure moved next to me and placed their hand on my shoulder. I didn’t need to look to see who it was; I knew it was Derek. He stood like that for a minute or two before he spoke.

“I’ll really miss you, Fran!” he said.

This took me by surprise, as I hadn’t told him how I felt yet. So, with a look, I asked him what he meant.

“You’re looking around as if you’re saying goodbye. This will be your final trip wont it? I wish it wasn’t.” He spoke with conviction and sincerity.

“I didn’t think I had decided, but yes, I think you’re right. This is it: it has been fun but this is the end of the line. I’ve done enough, I literally have no fight left!” I said this as the GB national anthem played out for the girls, he nodded and we did what we always did – we sang every word of ‘God Save the Queen’.

Despite this short conversation, I still went home and fought with myself about my decision to retire. I knew it was the right choice, but at the time swimming was my life – it was all I knew!

So there’s my decision for you. Was it the right decision? Yes! Would I change it? Find out tomorrow!