I love swings! It dates back all the way to my childhood. I've spent a lot of time on the swing. Even today, every time I need a break the swing is the first place I think of. It’s just always reminds me of calm and safety. When Daniel was still alive and going through psychosis the swing was a place for me to get away.
During one of his early psychotic episodes he went through a phase where he'd organize these chaotic piles of everything that he owned. He would put mounds of random things, but “organized art” in his mind. Every pile had a system. It took over a whole room in our house once. One day my mom told him that he needed to put everything away. Of course, he didn't agree and suddenly he started yelling and quickly became incoherent. I went into my room to get away, but I kept hearing these muffled bangs – he was throwing objects against the walls. That’s when I decided to go outside for a while. I used to go to our backyard and swing for hours, because it was safely away from the chaos inside, and the rocking motion always soothed me.
I used to pretend that the ropes were arms and that someone was holding me in that moment - rocking me back and forth trying to calm my cries. It always worked. So whenever Daniel would go into his violent spurts I would go sit on the swing, and pretend that I was being held by someone. Then in the safety of the rope's arms I would pump my legs as fast as I could, thinking that if I pumped hard enough I could fly and touch the clouds that I was trying so hard to reach. To this day swinging is such a calming motion for me.