Swim back.
Faster.
You must get to him.
It will **** him.
No, you were too late.
It’s already gotten to you.
You try to swim under it but it’s too strong.
It throws you around like a leaf in a hurricane.
It’s held you under too long.
You’re drowning.
You’re dying.
You try to swim to the surface.
You cough up salty water.
You raise a fist in the air for your rescue.
You can’t scream.
You thought all of your training would prepare you for this moment but instead you’re terrified.
There’s another one coming, more than twice the size of the last one.
You look everywhere, but no one is around.
Just white water and the gloomy sky.
It hits you.
You try and swim down again but you haven’t caught your breath from the last hit.
This one lasted longer than the last time.
It feels like hours on end.
Keeping track of the time only makes things worse.
You open you eyes so see the swaying water that is killing you.
When the swaying stops you take a gasp for air.
You’re choking so bad it’s like you were still drowning in the water.
The water starts to calm to the way it was.
But the way it was before seems much scarier after what you just gone through.
The person you tried to save was ok.
Saved by someone else stronger, and more prepared for this moment countless times before.
You can’t focus on the humiliation.  
The humiliation of when you try to save someone, when you can’t even save yourself.
The big strong wolf everyone thought you were back at home is now just an idea.
In the aftermath of this moment, you are scared.
Scared of the next wave that will probably **** you next time.
That feeling of death right at your doorstep.
Getting over it is just a saying you said to other people.
You said this to them because it makes you feel better about yourself.
The more you say it, the more you believe it yourself.
Days pass and you made the decision not to go back to that place.
No one cared for you there anyway.
What’s the point of doing a job that involves things you now have nightmares of doing.
You realize that you never had really happy moments there anyway.
The only good moments you had was when you were alone.
Alone with your good moments.
Your proud moments.
Maybe that wave did a good thing for you.
It made you realize the true suffering you were going through.
Worse suffering than the wave.
But it doesn’t matter now.
Because of your suffering and ptsd from your time spent there, you quit.
And you might not ever come back.