You can read Part 3 here
He was so calm, and I was so frantic. I kept asking him where Dad was. Where he came out at. Cody kept saying “I don’t know Sabrina, I don’t see him yet. You have to get out. You have to swim to the hatch. The boat is filling up with water.” The peace in his voice was so calming. He was so calm. How was he so calm. How could he be? I pushed myself down to the opening in wall number three and went as far as my feet could go and felt nothing. I began to push myself up when I felt the rope maliciously wrap around my throat. I couldn’t get it loose. I wanted to scream but was still holding my breath. I thought “Okay God, I think I’m coming to see you. I gave this life a good try but at least I know where I’m going.” I continued to struggle and felt the last bits of my lungs giving way. Arms flopping around for something to pull me up-feet kicking to find something to push off of. Nothing was working. Then suddenly there was air. I was spitting diesel, oil, and muck from my mouth and my lungs, but I was breathing air. I did not know how. I didn’t know how I got back up.
The rain had quieted down. I called to Cody, ” Codyman, I love you so much. I don’t think I’m getting out of here okay? But I love you so so much.” “Sabrina I love you too, but you are getting out of this boat. Now hush and swim to the hatch. Now.” He was still so calm. I pulled my hands up to grab the plastic tube again. Except my wrists were wrapped in sewing twine for the net. Burning and cutting into my flesh, I looked at the two pieces of green twine wrapping my wrists.
Which one was loudest? What if I cut my wrist and bled out instead of screamed for air as Cody listened? What would be the easiest death for him to hear/witness? It took about 3 seconds for me to say, “but what if Daddy and Cody get to me and I’m already dead. There’s still a chance. I am not doing this.”
I tore the twine off of my wrists and began talking to God. I don’t know if many of you know but since last August I have struggled with depression. A deeply rooted, twisted depression that tries to steal the joy from the life I love. The pain of losing two friends to suicide, one in March and one in August, was so profound that I struggled with my anger at God. Then another friend passed away in October. I finally broke down in November of 2013 and admitted to my parents that I was struggling. I had found a good outlet to help me, volunteering as a mentor to high school students. It was during a volunteering event that I knew, I needed help. I loved God and I wanted to live for Him, but I was angry. I was mad. I was frustrated. All feelings that I had never possessed towards God before.
In the bottom of that boat, I broke the last piece of my anger away and told Him how sorry I was. How much I loved Him. That my life is Yours. Do what you want. At peace with my decision, I tried to swim back into the cabin to see if I could find an opening. It was then that I felt something solid, but soft push against my left arm and left leg. I reached for it, thinking it was a person, maybe they were trying to pull me out. But as I reached, the thing floated out of my reach and I pulled myself back into my compartment. I blocked the idea that it was daddy out of my mind and focused on Cody’s voice and getting out. I scoured the walls, looking for an opening. Crying out to God for the hatch. I broke away all the particle board and placed my hand on every inch of the walls. No openings except the way I came in.
Cody’s voice was always there, talking to me, comforting me, but still commanding me to go towards the hatch and the front of the boat. All at once, I couldn’t make out Cody’s words anymore and it sounded like he was going away from me. Thinking the wind, water, current (and/or sharks, because lets be real, we all watch shark week, and the thought crossed my mind) was sweeping him away, I went bezerk for him to hear me, to swim towards my voice. His stern voice interrupted my cries, “Sabrina there’s a boat, I’m yelling for them, be quiet.” When a 13 year old little brother, tells you to be quiet when you are trapped inside the hull of your families shrimp boat so that he can flag down a boat, then you be quiet and wait for your next instructions.
Within seconds, I met Steve. Another Saving Grace. Another light as seen through a bilge pump.
This has been difficult to write. And I hope that my fears show you, that I am not just naturally strong or putting on a front. My strength comes from The Lord. I relied on Him through the darkness in the hull and in the twelve days since then. By no means, could I do this alone. I am ashamed that suicide even crossed my mind. In the moment, it was justified. I was going to save Cody the anguish of hearing my death. But I realized now that this is how suicide works. It takes a small thought and manipulates it into an idea and then transforms it into a plan of action and then eases your conscience so that there is justification. But that justification is only a manifestation of your own weakness. We all struggle. I think we are meant to. If we did not have struggles, then when would we have a chance to lean on God’s Grace? On Jesus’s love?
This blog sums up the first 45 minutes of being trapped. The next three hours were rough, but I had an amazing lifeline who talked me through the whole time. I will write about that next. Thank you for reading, and again, if you have any questions please feel free to ask.