The thing about losing your mind to a god, is that you're not entirely aware of it until it's too late - and Stan had finally come round to the realization that he was in way over his head when he was in fact way over his head. The day had come at him in flashes, points when he didn't feel entirely clear or aware of what he was doing and other points when the chaos around him was sudden and jarring and very much something he wanted to remove himself from. But no amount of running seemed to do him any good, every time he regained any amount of awareness he was further from his goal than he'd meant to be.
Until he found himself dragged under the water, suddenly his mind was his own again, he was Stan, he was there, he was drowning. He struggled and kicked and tried to find his way out but he couldn't break the grip on him, and he began to slip away, the sensation almost familiar, a reminder of where he'd been once before, almost a year ago.
There were other injuries, bruises and cuts. Stan washed up on the beach, only the barest hint of awareness left in him. And he thought about the Losers. Each one of them, even Bill and Mike, but they were all there in his mind, just like they had been before, Stan might lose them a second time, but at least he got to keep them safe both times.