"I tried to drown my sorrows, but the bastards learned how to swim, and now I am overwhelmed by this decent and good feeling"

Frida Kahlo’s words capture the persistent, inescapable nature of emotional pain and melancholy. She uses the vivid image of trying to “drown” her sorrows, an act of attempting to submerge, suppress, or escape the depths of her suffering. The language is both desperate and poetic, evoking an intense desire for relief from emotional anguish. Yet her sorrows, personified as cunning “bastards,” are not so easily vanquished. Instead of disappearing, they learn how to swim, surviving her attempts at submersion. They persist and adapt, evolving in response to her efforts to rid herself of them.

The phrase “learned how to swim” suggests that pain and sorrow are not inert; rather, they possess a stubborn tenacity, a living quality that refuses to be silenced or forgotten. This speaks to the experience of many who grapple with enduring sadness, efforts to avoid or escape only result in those emotions resurfacing, sometimes stronger than before.

What is particularly striking is the twist in the final lines, where Kahlo mentions being “overwhelmed by this decent and good feeling.” The word “overwhelmed” is key; it signals not triumph but a sort of emotional flooding, an inundation. It raises the possibility that even feelings which are “decent and good” can be overpowering, unsettling, or difficult to manage, especially in the context of persistent sorrow. Alternatively, it may hint at the complexity of her inner world: often, joy and pain exist side by side, and confronting one’s emotions can lead to an unexpected mingling of both positive and negative feelings. Rather than finding relief or clarity, she is caught in the swell, the coexistence of heartbreak and hope, drowning not in sorrow alone but in the turbulent tides of all her emotions.