Lost Time (conceptually)

Imagine you just woke up dripping wet in a public pool bathroom. The real issue here is that you have no recollection of how you got here and you cannot actually swim. Yet here you are, standing barefoot on the cool tile flooring, hyper aware of the fact that you are cold, wet, and shaky. The only thing you have to point to where you were is the vague feeling of suffocation and choking, like water had filled up your lungs only for you to unconsciously spit it back up and walk yourself over to the bathroom without realizing it. How is it possible that you are here now?
As the writer and director of this film, I know that this was caused by a dissociative episode where the character had gone swimming in a sort of fugue state. The character, in this case Jude, is so disconnected from the reality that she puts herself in danger of drowning.
Drowning to me is a symbol of helplessness and distress. When one says "I'm drowning in work," they mean they are overwhelmed and exhausted, but unable to do anything to remedy the situation. That feeling of being out of control and lost is exactly what I'm hoping to achieve by limiting what viewers know and understand about the character and what happens to her. My film opening will not necessarily create the suspense I was expecting because of time limit, but it will pique the viewers' attention and have them wanting to know more.