Trigger Warning // talk of mental health, intrusive thoughts, violence, murder, mention of sexual violence, death.
Turns out I have depression whether I’m on the trail or not. And due to my life circumstance and additional 3rd therapy session a week since being home (with a psychiatrist this time) it has been confirmed. I am currently in a “massive depressive episode” and experimenting with Zoloft.
I thought I was just crying every day cause I’m a Cancer... and while that may be true, I’ve also been depressed for years. A grueling combination.
Sure, there were some days on trail where I thought: what’s the point- of doing this- of doing anything? I just thought everyone experienced the same thoughts I was having sometimes, but it makes sense that they weren’t. Some thoughts were heavy hitters. Like the time I spent 2 weeks (more or less) looking over my shoulder in a panic *convinced* I would be murdered on the trail.
Turns out those were intrusive thoughts due to severe anxiety, OCD and maybe a touch of dehydration. A dangerous amalgamation while enduring the drought of NY, NJ, and PA in September. The night I had to commit to a campsite with glass shards, near a road, due to exhaustion and mental health crisis, didn’t help. This was amongst a series of unfortunate events including multiple road crossings after dark that had me wondering if I would be followed into the woods by someone as obsessed with raping and murdering me as I was thinking it would happen.
It didn’t help that I was alone for multiple days in a row. At the glass sprinkled campsite, I struggled to hang my bear line. It took me longer than usual, and once I finally got it hung up on a very tall and unconventional tree, the carabiner accidentally latched on to a tiny branch that was sticking out. The bear bag was stuck.
I tried to wiggle it down but it was clear that the only way this was coming down would be by breaking the branch. My energy tank was on E. I left it until the morning thinking maybe I’d be able to get it down once I was rested. My plan was that I would wait for someone to help me in the morning if I really couldn’t get it down. I wasn’t ready to abandon my resupply (or any food in the woods for that matter.)
As I lay in my tent thinking about what a lovely campsite this was despite the glass and close proximity to the road, I notice something sparkling in the corner of my eye. WHY did I have to notice this right now? I do a double take and genuinely wonder if I’m hallucinating.
This can’t be what I think it is. I rub my eyes and yet it’s still sparkling. Now I have to get out of my tent. Ugh. I was just getting cozy!
I knew if I didn’t get up and investigate, I would continue ruminating on the very real-to-me threat of murder tonight, and not sleep a wink.
Here I go: headlamp- on, camp shoes- on, I’m ready to put this intrusive thought to rest.
Lodged into the base of a tree 10 feet away from my tent- it’s a machete.
I think… okay, maybe it’s a toy machete??? It was lodged into the ground like King Arthur’s sword to stone in Excalibur. Maybe the local drinking crowd that usually camps here was playing a game and no one would be able to get this machete out of the ground?
Nope.
I touched the handle and it immediately comes out of the ground revealing the machete’s rusted and dented blade. Okay- either I’m King of the trail, or this was not a game. Why does it look like this!?
The thoughts continue… I just touched a murder weapon and now my finger prints are on it. Who ever left this here knows exactly where it is and at any time they could come back ready to kill me with it. They’re probably lurking in the woods or waiting on the road until I’m tucked away in my tent to come back to this spot and use that weapon to murder me!
I got no sleep that night. These thoughts are beyond breathing techniques. I needed to get out of there ASAP. Only I couldn’t- my bear bag was stuck, remember!?
I waited until 10:30am before I saw another hiker gliding through the forest in a bright yellow tee shirt. I recognized that stride anywhere, “Puzzle, is that you!?” I hiked with Puzzle for a few days before he even claimed a trail name and I was relieved to summon this 6’5” hiker for help with my bear bag.
We both tried, and eventually Puzzle had enough strength to break the smaller branch, releasing my food bag. Safe to say I ditched the carabiner after that. Even though Puzzle had a 26 mile day planned, I’m thankful he stopped to help me. He slowed down for a bit as I packed up and hiked behind him at a snail’s pace. It was good to catch up but eventually he had to move on. He was at pace for 26 and I would be holding him back the way I was moving that day. Some days I plan for big miles, but on this day, my goal was to get out of bed, release that bear line, and get anywhere but where I was.
As I attempted to gain control of my fight or flight response, I took a break at a lookout known for its birds overhead and rattle snakes underfoot. I met two birders and they were nice enough to let me look at a bald eagle through their binoculars. We chatted about the trail, birds, and life in general. The day before, there was a 900 bird migration right at that very spot. It was really good for me to be near people again and share some stories after so many days and nights alone.
I needed to get a move on if I wanted to be present for my DBT (dialectical behavioral therapy) group session. I hiked over to another look out a few miles away. It wasn’t on the map, but only a few feet off the trail beyond an obvious “stealth” campsite.
The area was perfect for little-old-me to settle in. I double check my phone for the time and to make sure I have cell service. I lay my tent out to breathe and dry off from recent rain and morning dew.
The last time I had rain I was able to collect a full liter of water on the vestibule of my tent. The drought was definitely making water logistics difficult, often having to go a mile out of the way only to find a dry stream.
I start unpacking lunch and turn on zoom for my group session. This is a typical Monday afternoon for me on trail. The views were beautiful on this day. Cloudy, yet vibrant skies and turkey vultures flying over head.
Okaythese birds are getting a little too close for comfort. My sympathetic nervous system has re-entered the chat. I mute my microphone and yell out to the birds of carrion “I’m not dead!” An interesting choice of words considering the circumstances of the night before.
I tried to focus on the skills based session of the day and participate in the meeting as much as I could. In the back of my head I’m wondering where the carcass is that these vultures are looking for and hoping it’s not too close to where I am. After all, I didn’t smell anything. On second thought, maybe those birds were smelling me... yikes.
All the while, I try to embrace the beauty of how close the birds are to me physically as they circle above and nearby. It’s not often one would have a close encounter such as this. My session concludes and I pack up to continue hiking this rocky terrain, eventually finding a new place to set up camp and do it all over again.