Fleeing the South to New York, Nearly a Drowning.

We were driving through the backroads of a southern state. Everything was wet like after weeks of gray and torrential rain. You couldn't tell the difference between the road and the brush unless you consciously paid attention to the way the tires rolled over the surface. We were driving to New York, nothing there but getting away from where we were. There was a sense that we were escaping the people here, their limited understanding of who we could be and what we were capable of. The road that we drove on eventually came to a point where we were seeing houses. On the one side of the road was a dense forest, wet and autumnal, all branched and drowned, and on the other was a bigger cabin-like structure, more a modern home than a rural retreat, but a cabin nonetheless. The front of their house had no sidewalk, but instead a wooden dock or a deck, something that looked like a homemade sidewalk where they could walk through the growing brush. A big puddle was between the deck and the forest and it was directly where we were going to drive. I didn't accelerate, but didn't slow down and drove directly towards the puddle, not thinking that there was going to be a gap. As my car hits the front of the water, my passenger (I think Kaleena) says the word "bridge" and my car plunges deeply into what is now a massive (and clear) body of water. I am able to swim, no longer strapped into the car, but my hand is holding the steering wheel as it drags me down. I am trying to swim to the other end of the shore, still far, but my belief is that if only I can reach the shore with this car, we'll make it. We'll be fine. I hear the words; just as clear as the word bridge, I hear the words "New York" and a medium-sized red fish swims past me and I know I'm getting deeper and my breath is getting diminished as I use up the oxygen in my lungs. Through the dream, I feel my heartbeat in my sleeping body left behind. I am holding my breath, still trying to calculate if I can drag the car with me to shore and I begin to think of my passenger and how they would think it was so stupid if I died trying to save the car. So I let the car go and there's a zoomed out scene similar to You Were Never Really Here, as the car and I are suspended in this vast borderless underwater shot, my hand now holding the bumper and me fighting to swim up. As the car sails down below, I am swimming to the shore and realize I'm not going to make it so I swim straight up and am able to breathe right away. 

Could be nothing, but I've woken up feeling weak, feeling like my heart is laboring to keep blood in my body. I wonder if I actually stopped breathing and my dream reflected that.