the times before…
A fact-finding mission without a roadmap.
Where to start - I’ve been wanting a therapist for longer than I can remember.
Definitely longer than the time I spend lusting after boots: Blundstones and IceBugs all together, I owe a pair of both brands. Both boots cost hundreds of dollars.
Quite the departure from my typical refusal to pay full price for any apparel. The exception to that rule, of course, being footwear and coats. Both types are needed to adequately live where I do. A good coat and grippy/studded boots can make my undiagnosed Seasonal Affective Disorder seem like a trendy term only and not a constant battle.
Last winter Duluth broke the record snowfall amount since first being tracked over 40 years ago. There was snow on the ground for six months straight. So much snow. So much snow that my friend Sean became my cross-country ski instructor. And I began going skiing with the same enthusiasm as hiking and camping; that is to say, with great enthusiasm.
I had been struggling to find a therapist for almost a full year. I knew I had things to work on, things that were brought to my attention after taking my first mushroom trip. “A trip to the city,” as my psilocybin-sensei friend Brandt describes. I spent 2 hours crying in a creek in George H. Crosby Manitou River State Park - one of the most “off-the-grid,” favorite places to take mushrooms and decompress. She’s remote. She’s rarely populated, especially when it comes to overnight camping. I love that state park, but it bears witness to some intense self-coping experiences I’ve had in my 35-years of life… dropping a pin in summer of 2022.
I could barely bring myself to camp there in 2023. One night that I did, I was anxiously awaiting news from home: my dog Josie had new growths on her hind legs and belly, making mobility a constant issue. Josie is a 10-year-old blue heeler. A Benjamin Button dog. In the past two years she’s almost aged backwards in terms of energy, spryness and manipulative tendencies. She’s a working breed. Just like her mom. When Josie started showing signs of tenderness on her hind quarters, I panicked and got her into the vet. But I also planned to camp two nights at Crosby - a place that I have to hike 1.2 miles to the my car, hop in and drive to the nearest highway which was another 10 minutes. Just to get to a place with cell phone reception.
I hiked to camp and setup by 3pm. Josie’s appt. was at 2pm. I made good time, as I typically do both in and out of the wilderness. But I couldn’t shake the fear of bad news. I raced to get to the highway to call Al, who had hopefully returned home with only good news to share. And he did have good news: the growths are normal in all breeds of dog, and Josie’s biopsy came back negative for any concerns such as cancer and spreading throughout her body. Phew.
But my adrenaline had been pumping for nearly 12-hours at that point. And I couldn’t calm down, even while being off-the-grid and off-the-clock. All that I had to do was relax next to a campfire.
And I couldn’t. I couldn’t shut off my brain.
I still can’t. But I’m trying to take deep breaths. And fill my days with yoga, fresh juices and decaf coffee. Coping by staying busy: going to the gym to either cycle, swim laps, or sweat it all out in the sauna. Sitting at the library to research mental illnesses. I even carry around Frank Lloyd Wright coloring books and watercoloring pencils, just hoping the spirit will overcome me to sit quietly and color like I’m a little kid with ADHD.
Well, if the shoe fits, right? I wear children’s sized clothing. Might as well act like a kid in order to find the answers to why I get depressed and start having debilitating migraines, thusly restricting food and curling into the fetal position under my weighted blanket.
As an old café regular once said, it sure takes guts getting old. I may just be the bravest kid, in the case. Because all I want is answers and 4-6 doctors are helping me fill out my roadmap. Thankfully I have a “bus pass” punched with the willingness to be better and the strongest support-system a gal could ask for.
