One Breath

My Journey to Freediving for Anxiety & Building Confidence.

Anxiety can be like a constant, looming shadow.

Anxiety is believing the absolute worst-case scenario is going to happen.

It’s the mind running wild with a thousand “what-ifs,” painting vivid pictures of catastrophe.

So what happens when we plunge headfirst into our deepest fears?

What if we dive right into the unknown and discomfort?

This is exactly what I set out to do, not just mentally, but physically, through freediving.

I’ve always struggled with swimming in places where I can’t touch the bottom. let alone diving underwater.

The feeling of panic would overtake me the moment I realise I cannot touch the bottom, the pressure would build in my chest, my breath would grow shallow, my thoughts would start racing, and the fear of drowning would take over.

This fear kept me in its grip for years, especially in rough, murky, or deep water.

I always knew I needed to face it, so I started by building confidence in my swimming skills through lessons. However, I quickly realised that fear is complex, and the lessons didn't help as much as I had hoped.

Fear it’s a natural response to the uncontrollable environment we find ourselves in.

Fear is an essential, life-preserving instinct, alerting us to potential threats.

But when it holds us back from living fully, it’s time to question it.

Through breathwork, I finally found the courage to freedive, to transform this fear and turn it into confidence.

The major danger in water is panicking - a real risk if left unchecked.

Freediving, more than anything, is about managing this fear, facing it down, and learning to remain calm.

The best and worst part of freediving is that it’s all you.

There’s no breathing apparatus, no external support; it’s just you and your breath, and that’s both the beauty and the challenge.

It’s amazing because everything you accomplish is 100% you.

It’s terrifying because it puts you face to face with anything holding you back.

After practicing breathwork on dry land for quite some time, I was eager yet anxious to see if I could bring that same control into the water.

I signed in for a Molchanovs Lap 1 course.

On the first day I faced static apnea, and it was a struggle. As I submerged my face in the water, my heart raced like a wild drum, pounding in my chest. Every instinct in my body screamed for air, and my mind spiraled into a whirlpool of worst-case scenarios. I could feel the weight of my fears pressing down on me, constricting my breath and making each moment feel painfully short. I couldn’t relax; I couldn’t manage my fear. Each attempt to hold my breath ended too soon, leaving me gasping for air and questioning my ability to succeed.

Yet, deep down, I knew this was just the beginning. I reminded myself that every challenge I faced was an opportunity for growth. Although the first day felt frustrating, I was determined to embrace the journey ahead.

I would learn to quiet the storm within me, to harness the breath that had become my ally on land, and transform it into a powerful tool beneath the surface.

Freediving requires a level of self-control - of body and mind - that feels almost surreal.

Every sense sharpens as seconds stretch into what feels like hours.

The moment you take that final breath, dive underwater, and feel the weight of the water around you, it becomes an intense confrontation with yourself - knowing there’s no option to breathe as you would on land.

You only get better by understanding your body and learning to control your thoughts. Often, this means completely letting go of control.

Other times, you must push past the fearful thoughts, the discomfort, and relax.

The second day brought dynamic training, and I arrived already filled with anxiety, haunted by nightmares from the night before. In my dreams, I was trapped beneath the water, unable to hold my breath, with too much water above me to reach the surface. -. "Baby steps, Nikki. You don’t have to do more than you’re ready for” the instructors reassure me - Their words wrapped around me like a warm blanket, softening the sharp edges of my fear. “You did really well in the static,” they continued “Many people never even reach half of what you accomplished.” their support reminded me that this journey was about progress, not perfection.

There I am in the pool: my heart pounding.

After a few moments of grounding myself with relaxation breathing, the time has come.

I take my final deep breath, filling my lungs with courage, and dive headfirst into the water.

As I manage to kick off the wall, glide with the right buoyancy, and coordinate arm pulls and leg kicks in the No-Fins Technique, I am also tasked with rescuing someone—even though I am the one with poor swimming skills and a fear of deep water!

It's a battle to stay relaxed and not rush to the surface.

Then the final attempt arrives, presenting me with a chance to truly show what I’m capable of.

I can either give in to fear, allowing it to grip me once more, or I can embrace the challenge before me, and prove to myself that I can overcome it.

As I stood at the edge of the pool, the water shimmering beneath me, I took a deep relaxing breath.

I felt the weight of my anxiety trying to pull me back, whispering doubts in my ear.

But I realised that this was my moment—a chance to reclaim my power.

With determination surging through me, I chose to let go of my fear.

I shifted my focus entirely to one goal: reaching the end of the pool.

As I kicked off the wall and plunged into the water, everything around me faded away.

The world above was gone; it was just me and the water, flowing around me like a gentle embrace.

I felt the rhythm of my movements, the strength in my body, and the clarity of my mind. Each kick brought me closer to my goal, and with every passing second, I sensed the fear dissipating.

I was no longer a prisoner of my anxiety; I was moving forward, strong and free.

The end of the pool approached, and I could feel the exhilaration building within me.

I pushed harder, driven by the realisation that I was capable of so much more than I had ever believed.

As I reached the wall and touched it with my forearm and turned, a wave of pride washed over me, filling me with a warmth I had never experienced before.

In that moment, I understood that overcoming fear wasn’t just about the swim; it was about believing in myself.

I had faced my fears head-on and emerged victorious, proving to myself that I was capable of achieving my dreams—one breath, one kick, one moment at a time.

Then I started processing everything that just happened. “How did so much happen in less than two minutes underwater?”.

In the time between your breathe-up and recovery breathing, you can experienced the highest of highs or the lowest of lows, it's your choice.

The world felt different, sharper, more alive.

And the achievement wasn’t just physical; it was deeply emotional.

Freediving taught me an invaluable lesson in self-trust and resilience.

Baby steps, but each time you push yourself little bit further, each second you hold out, you’re building a stronger foundation of courage.

The mix of struggle and triumph leaves you processing the experience for days, unpacking everything that happened within those mere minutes underwater.

Like solo travel or any deeply personal journey, freediving challenges you to confront your fears and emerge stronger on the other side.

Breathwork has been essential in this process—building CO₂ tolerance, increasing lung capacity, and teaching me how to stay relaxed and control my nervous system.

I’m learning that fear isn’t a wall; it’s a hurdle—something to navigate and grow from, and the realisation that I can accomplish more than I ever believed.

Breathwork has been my journey into the depths, not only of water but of myself.

One breath at a time.