Way back when Hijo was just turning four, we went to Hawaii to celebrate my parents' anniversary and visit a cousin who lives there. (I highly recommend having family members move to tropical vacation spots.) My cousin's husband worked for a dive shop, and my sister and brother-in-law like to SCUBA dive, so they encouraged me to come along.
I was considered a good swimmer, and comfortable in the water, so my training consisted of 30 seconds worth of: breathe through your mouth, do this if your breathing thingamajigg falls out of your mouth, don't do this or this or this, or you will DIE, OK, let's go. And they marched off into the ocean ahead of me. Umm, I called out meekly as I flopped after them, don't people take weeks of classes before they get to this stage?
Before I knew it I was deep under the water, my head felt like it was going to explode and my world narrowed to a pinpoint focus. Breathe in. Breathe out. Through your mouth. I was vaguely aware that there was coral beneath me, and fish would swim by, but I was terrified. Breathe in. Breathe out. Through your mouth. I held on tightly to my cousin's husband, who was helping me stay down under the water, which is apparently tricky for beginners. Breathe in. Breathe out. Through your mouth. My sister and brother-in-law swam around me, and I think they even waved at me once. For a moment, I let my line of vision open up a bit, and I could see things around me. We weren't in a tunnel after all. But soon it was back to breathe in. Breathe out. Through your mouth.
When you meditate, you basically focus on your breath. I have never in my life been so focused on my breath. It is not necessarily a pleasant thing. Paying close attention does not release you from the torments of your mind. You will still feel the things you felt before. Your thoughts don't go away, or even slow down. You might be terrified.
When we finally surfaced after what seemed like an eternity, it turned out that I had used much less oxygen than anyone else on the dive.
Most people start meditating, I suppose, because they want to feel better, so it can be discouraging to realize that this isn't always the case. There is a distinction made betwen pain and suffering. You don't have to suffer, we are told, but you will still have pain. You can narrow your focus to one small thing, and that will keep you alive, or you can be open and relaxed and see all the coloful fish swimming around you, and still survive the dive. It's up to you.