CDT Day 33 (6/20/23)

Miles 736.2 (Red line 852.2)- 764.4 (Brown line 19.7) (28.2 miles)

Verbatim

I was really exhausted today, and consequently very angry. **** ***. *.*.*.*. *.*.*. I get so angry ——————. —————————. ———. ——————. ————.

Anyways. That was the mood today. I’m so damn tired of thinking about her. But there’s not much else to think about without company. It’s continued to be a lonely hike, hence my dropping onto the Creede alternate. I enjoy talking with older people other. I can feel like a normal, pleasant, caring and cogniscent human being when I’m talking to older people who aren’t hiking the trail. I feel like I can smile again. Just exist. Forget my pain and anger.

I was resting around noon today and a hummingbird flew really close to my face. I’m not sure why, but it was cool!

There was snow this morning and there were indeed some sketchy ice traverses. I managed. Being atop mount Hope was pretty fun, but my knees were hurting. The blow downs off the alternate were horrendous. The sun is hot if the wind isn’t blowing. I lost my sock in a river crossing while washing it. But, it caught on a rock just down stream! I was saved!

Post Note

I felt trapped by L. So much of my pain sprung from experiencing the damage of the finding of a quick insignificant fix in light of loss. What was it that Twister recommended me much much later down the trail? “Nothing like some quick ass to take your mind off a breakup”. Yeah Twister, I know that’s an option but that’s exactly what I’m trying not to do. I’m trying to sit with in for as long as it stays. All the anger. All the pain. And there was no damn distraction. If there was a distraction it was my knee hurting all afternoon after the descent, or my hunger, or the heat, or the mistake of washing two socks at once, or a flitting hummingbird.

This is when trail is at its worst. When there’s no escape. When you’ve got holes in all your socks except the one you just washed down stream. I sat there, stunned, for a few minutes after losing my sock. There was nothing I could do. I’d just forded the river which was up to my knees and flowing rapidly. I couldn’t catch it even if I scrambled after it. So I washed the remaining sock and thought about how I wouldn’t be able to capitalize on the lifetime warranty of the Darn Tough. I decided that when I inevitably lost another sock during the trip it would have to be matching so I could equalize the loss. Eventually I raised myself out of my stupor. My “clean sock” still bled dirt each time I squeezed it. I walked twenty feet down the stream. There, under the crystal mountain waters, stuck on a branch, was my sock. Hah! It’s a miracle. The trail gods are real.

I’m in the chat again a few weeks later to edit and monitor the developing story I’ve written. It’s way too early in the morning because I woke up having had a good dream (which honestly really was a nightmare) with L in it. There’s still pain. There’s still anger. And that makes me really angry and feel a lot of pain. One of the things I’ve come to understand about myself is that I really don’t do well without sleep. I’m a dick when I don’t get enough sleep. And I need a lot of sleep. Some people can do six hours. I need at least 9, and need to be asleep by 9pm until 6am so that I can get the double value hours of sleep between 9pm and 12am. That’s TWELVE figurative hours of sleep each night.

With all the emotional turbulence between L and I, I was not able to sleep. To get a full night’s sleep I had to utilize sheer exhaustion. I’d overwork myself on the bike, reading hundreds of pages, imagining different scenarios, or walking lots of miles. I’m still not able to trust that I’ll sleep well, as this morning attests. So, I feel my emotions today and I read the first paragraphs of what I wrote in my journal on Day 33 and notice how connected it all is to just plain exhaustion. When I’m exhausted I don’t have the capacity to be kind to others. When I’m exhausted I don’t have the capacity to enter Self and care for myself. When I can’t care for myself I demand other’s care for me instead (not anyone else’s responsibility). Then I’m being dick to them AND needy. Oh god. Poor sleep -> emotional agony -> bad sleep -> ect. How do you break that cycle? When do I get to know the joy of sleeping again? I used to be so good at it. I was better at it than all my friends. :)

Another question I have, and this one was really pressing last night in a period of emotional distress, is; “When do I get my reward for not going crazy?”. When I talk about my willingness to just keep “sitting” in the distress I feel this question. A lot of people have told me to pick up and go. Sure. I’d like to. But I still feel this way, so even if I pick up and go I’ll just carry it with me. It’ll find me. I guess sometimes I feel ashamed that I still find myself feeling the way I do sometimes.