Cloud Mountain

The feelings have not.

The subtle reminders that I’ve fallen completely out of your life have been a daily occurrence for the past year, even with new people in and out of my life in attempt to find the new “you”.

Maybe one day we’ll reconnect, smile and find out where we ended up in life, and pretend like things are good again.

I had the most amazing summer, and met some of the best people in the world at camp. I learned a lot, left with more than I came with, and ultimately view that as a great experience for myself.

I really struggled for a solid three weeks with my anxiety when I arrived, and was temporarily not given trips with the kids to lead because I couldn’t express my emotions. I had panic attacks over and over, isolated myself socially, and ultimately thought I wouldn’t be able to make it through just the initial orientation. I had a few wonderful friends from Australia, New Zealand, and Colorado that convinced me otherwise though, and with a little help I hit my stride teaching kids how to mountain bike, eventually leading me to do some really amazing trips to the Adirondacks. I became more social, and was among the “in” crowd at camp as I continued to concentrate on getting better at my job and working on my anxiety. I even became close with two girls working on camp, and although things didn’t work out for various reasons, it was a step in the right direction for me. In a lot of ways, I felt more at home in Pennsylvania living in a tent in the woods than among the memories of that double bed in New Jersey.

However

I left there and immediately was flung into this uncomfortable place and my old feelings that linger within every inch of town. I walked in my room with my stuff and was greeted with the pictures she once drew for me, still hanging on the wall. Just like the picture of a big red heart with the words “someday” written inside of it, I put off the pain of ripping those off my wall for almost a year now, and I still can’t bring myself to do it. It’s this crippling emotional weakness, the longing for the feelings I once had for another, only briefly grasping at over the summer (once with another 19 y/o Brynmawr girl, shocker) that breaks me down at the end of my days. No matter how things were going at camp, I still found myself thinking about her at the end of the day. I consider myself so privileged that I had the opportunity to be away from home and learn a lot about myself and the world around me while being paid to do so, but I always looked back to where the summer could have been if things didn’t end the way they did. It was the first summer in quite awhile that there wasn’t a crash of emotions and skin in my life, and in so many ways my journey to find myself led me back to where I was before I left: mentally broken. During the summer I drank excessively on every day off, eventually making the realization that I did that not only because I worked extra hard during the week and wanted to go crazy, but also because I was unhappy with myself. By September, I found myself singing “Beautiful Mess” all the time and secluding myself to work on bikes instead of hang out with the rest of the group. More than once, I found myself crying as I drove back from the nearby town as I tried to come to terms with what I’ve been trying to deal with for an exceptionally long time now.

I ended up landing a full time job at a school for kids with emotional/behavioral issues in the south. On paper I’m the perfect person for the job, and they hired me almost immediately. I’m taking it, and I’m jetting as far away as I can get for now. My tentative plans are to save money there, quit around May and go back to camp until the end of next summer. From there...who knows where I’ll end up. I know people all over the world now, thanks to the camp. I have solid friends in the central/western states, New Zealand, England, and Australia that I can count on. If I save enough, I’ll have money to pack up and go anywhere I want and make a living there. Maybe I can hike the whole AT and fuck off from the world for another half a year after that, or go to New Zealand and do the Te Araroa? I don’t know, but this job is a step in the right direction

As much as possible, my future can’t be in New Jersey when I still get searing hot flashes of anxiety whenever she’s mentioned. I’m afraid of her, afraid of what one person can make me feel without saying a word to me for 9 months, and afraid that this cycle is only going to repeat itself with anyone else I let into my life with that powerful emotional drive. I can’t even type this up without tears building up in my eyes. It’s just this gigantic series of first world problems that I can’t seem to figure out how I can get over, and it’s consuming me.

I really don’t go on here anymore, but I guess I’ll update this for anyone that still wants to talk.

My life has changed drastically and shit’s sucked for awhile. The feelings I’ve dealt with, along with remaining stable mentally as I go through them, have been a difficult struggle for me to endure mostly alone. If I didn’t have swim lessons to teach and things to be proud of as I went through everything in the past 6 months, I don’t know where I’d be. I’m better now, but that doesn’t mean the void in my chest left from the whole ordeal has been filled either.

As of today, I know that in May I’m going to work outdoors for two months straight at a summer camp. I’m gonna backpack, rock climb, and whatever else they need me to do, all while camping outdoors the entire time. I can’t be in Ewing this summer, I just can’t. The job doesn’t pay well, and I’ll miss the company of my elderly dog...but I won’t be here and that’s what matters. Even if it’s just temporary, I’ll be far far away from everything that’s rattled my bones with anxiety. If I want, I can stay till the winter, and go from there. In the past, I drove for hundreds of miles to make it all work, and I’ll uproot my life just to get away from it all too.

Who says you can’t run away from your problems?

If anyone I’ve talked to before wants to continue to talk, leave your contact into in a message and we’ll figure something out whenever I’m back on here again.

"I know a lotta people but not many that I trust

And outta those I trust not many I would touch

They say I talk in circles but I write it line by line

I love you can mean complete vulnerability. Maybe not right away but eventually you’ll begin to rely on this person. You’ll call for them when you’re sick and you’ll cry on them when someone dies and you’ll rely on them when exhaustion takes its toll. You’re dangerously close to becoming accustomed to their presence so the threat of their indefinite absence becomes overwhelming. It’s not that you couldn’t live without them. You could. You’ll just know that if it ever came to it, you wouldn’t want to. And that want can paralyze you if it isn’t reciprocated.