Saturday...
Lord, I am once again wracked with rage, frustration, and most notably, humiliation. Even as I sit up here on the hogback beneath the shade of the Ponderosas, with hardly a cloud above me in the deep blue skies, and a swift, cool breeze hissing through the boughs. Safe, sound, alone. I can’t stop myself from getting caught up in the past, ruminating, overthinking, catastrophizing, feeling the shame and embarrassment of fucking up in front of almost forty of my peers (even though, I logically know that I didn’t. Not even my professor recognized that I was panicking, and she actually told me I seemed "cool as ice" while giving my speech).
Logically, I know what happened Tuesday wasn’t something I could really control. I’d done my best to prepare for my informative speech on all things nature. I felt confident, dare I say, a little eager to share just a few bits and pieces of my knowledge on Your creation. But, my anxiety. No, my absolute terror, ruined that.
The fear didn’t originate in my mind. It came directly from my body, specifically, my heart. I haven’t felt the sensation of my heart literally stopping for a few beats in over a year. Well, until it did just that in the middle of my presentation. It all went to hell in a handbasket from there. At least, that’s true from my perspective.
Thankfully, nobody else seemed to notice that I about blacked out in front of them. Hell, from the sounds of it, nobody noticed a damn thing wrong, which is cool and all. It's good to know forty strangers didn't recognize that I was freaking the fuck out right in front of them. However, even though I know that nobody could tell what I was going through, I am still emotionally torn up by it. Humiliated by the fact that my physiology betrayed me, my anxiety got the best of me, my fear took control of my inner self.
Even now, I’m extremely nervous sitting alone on the hogback overlooking the stables in the valley. The wind’s increasing ahead of a strong, snow-bringing cold front, kicking up dust and leaves with the gusts. I’ve since gotten up to my feet, so I can better see the world around me now that I can no longer hear any animals and people approaching me. And damn, it's getting pretty cold.
Logically, I know I am safe up here. The resident mountain cougar is skittish of people and would much rather fuck up a deer than me. If there are any bears around, they’re busy getting drunk off fruit trees and rummaging through people’s trashcans in the valley below. If there are moose, they’d be down in the willows and not up here on this 12-foot-wide trail. The only other people up here are Ken Caryl Valley residents, and the rangers are constantly on patrol to keep these lands free of criminals (though I haven’t met a single soul this whole afternoon). The only thing that could truly get me here is a rattler, but even they’re hesitant to do any damage so long as I respect their space.
Still, I am downright spooked. In fact, I think I’ll get to wider, more open ground, just so I have more room to move and can better see the world around me. Again, I could use logic and reason to prove that I am safe where I’m at till dawn tomorrow, but anxiety doesn’t work like that. Right now, my body’s acting as though there’s a tiger hiding behind the sandstone plates that are sticking up from the fine white sand. I know there isn’t, but I’m gonna obey my instincts and get the fuck outta here. Hopefully, I will be able to relax better in the shade and shelter of the Gabel Oaks on the western slope of this hogback, closer to my Xterra and on wider, flatter ground.
Uhhh… well… I got so spooked that I sprinted all the way from the hogback to my Xterra. The second I began to head this way, my "lizard brain" took over, and I bolted. I leapt over rocks and tree roots effortlessly like a deer, and I didn't care to slow down when I came across a pack of mountain bikers riding up the trail. I just sprinted, hellbent on getting to the safety and security of my truck. Now that I made it, I still feel like I can sprint another hundred miles before getting tired. I'm super jittery and jacked up on adrenaline. My neck is throbbing due to my blood pressure being so high, and I'm breathing so hard that I'm fogging up the driver's side window and the windshield ahead of me.
I can’t wait to increase my dose of Prozac to 20 milligrams next week. This is fucking awful. I can’t even enjoy the wilderness without my anxiety kicking into overdrive over some wind in the trees! No wonder I need to be medicated to be a functional adult in society...and in order to enjoy this wilderness.
