part 2

Photo Credit: Cliff Birdsall

How is it that I was still so self conscious at Smith Rock?

Leaving Seattle was freeing.

I was sick of the high school atmosphere. Now, in hindsight, I wonder if society's addiction to social media has contributed to the high school vibe. I cut ties with many. I can't stand people who are fake and once you have hurt me, I usually walk away.

Trust me, I know I can be harsh.

Although, I felt let down by many in my younger years. I was blind sighted by the person I considered my best friend two years ago. I had just gone through a break-up with the man I thought I was going to marry.  I had got into hiking and joined an outdoor women's forum. I did not really have tons a friends, but who am I kidding? I have never been a girl with a ton of close friends. Friendships to me are sacred and I am very picky about who I let in my life. I met Kay on a group hike up Mount Saint Helens, we didn't instantly click, but she had a very similar schedule to mine. With schedules that matched we hiked.

I had prided myself that I spent 27 years covering up who I was. Damn, I did a good job of never showing anyone who I was. But I wanted to be real, I wanted real friendships. With that, I decided to open up and just be me with Kay. I was a slow hiker and very inexperienced, Kay was always willing to go hike with me. Kay was awkward, funny, and seemed to genuinely want to be my friend. Being friends with females has been difficult throughout my whole life, since I am very closed off emotionally. 

First, I want to be clear, I have been a bitch. I have been mean to many people, most unintentionally but sometimes intentionally. There was a friend who I called a bitch because she ditched me after I took a weekend off to go to Portland and she ditched me to go climb Rainier with my friends. Harsh? Yes, but I wasn't willing to be a doormat anymore. That girl still hates me and tells people that don't know me that I am a terrible person. Yes, I was pretty terrible to call her a bitch.

But back to the story.

Kay and I became fast friends, best friends. We hiked 2-3 days a week, shared our deepest darkest secrets, and honestly, I thought she was going to be my best friend until I was six feet under. I felt like I finally had a friend that knew me, for just me. No lies, no pretending, no keeping her at an arms length. She was my chosen family, but things started to get weird. Kay seemed to get jealous if  I had any other friends. It was weird how she would act when I started getting close to another girl, Lindy.
Kay would do everything in her power to make sure she could hang out with us, and almost would invite herself to hang out. I didn't think much of it at the time, and never really understood why she would say such mean things about my other friends. She made it clear that she didn't care about these people because she was my friend. 

I would always meet people on Instagram to hike, Kay had the nerve to call one girl a "fan girl" who just wanted to hang out with us because we took great pictures. I didn't really understand this, and would never think this of someone. Sad thing, she told this girl that I was the one who said this about her and the two are now close friends.

Kay was uncomfortable with the men I dated, they were always terrible people. One day, she even told me that my aunt was too  controlling in my life. My aunt, my best friend, and my biggest support system. But she was my friend, and I figured it was all in my best interest.

I still vividly remember the last two weeks of our friendship. My schedule had really changed and
I was not able to hang out with Kay as much as we use to. Typing this now, I really get the creeps, like single white female creeps. My friend, Emily and I had been hiking and rock climbing a lot together. Emily and I wanted to go catch the tulip festival in Skagit County. Kay had asked me what I was up to after she got off work, and I let her know. She insisted on coming, she had arranged with Emily to come with us. Kay got off too late, and we missed the festival. It was disturbing how  I could sense that she did not want me to hang out with Emily alone. Like a jealous boyfriend.

A few months prior, Kay had gone to a hot springs with a very close male friend of mine, Clay.  I had trusted Clay with my life and he had been nothing but supportive and there for me. When Kay returned from the Hot Springs, she immediately contacted me saying that Clay had made her feel uncomfortable and had taken advantage of her with nude photos. I instantly went into friend mode, telling Clay how horrible he was. Being a victim of sexual assault myself I couldn't stand for a friend being treated this way.

Those months, Kay, unraveled. She became possesive of our friendship, I watched her behave inappropriately with men who were not her boyfriend, and watched her behavior in a hot tub that seemed similar to the inappropriate behavior she said Clay had. Things were not adding up. She messaged me one morning about how her dad was mad at her for not going to a Bernie Sanders event. It was all about how she couldn't understand why her dad was mad at her for not going to an event that she had known about for a month. I told her that her dad was probably really hurt.

It got really weird. Kay asked me why I didn't love her, and saying things that you would say to your significant other. I had never given Kay the impression that we had anything but friendship. I am not into girls. That night, she came over with her boyfriend to hang out with Emily and my roommates. Things seem to go fine, until the next morning she told me she needed a break and I was not giving her the love she needed. I was freaked out, and things seem to not be right. The lies where starting to unfold. It was like a slap in the face, I trusted her, and she lied.

It took me a while to realize that her elaborate story about Clay probably wasn't the truth. I sucked up my pride, and reached out. I felt awful, in my gut, I knew Kay had lied. Clay was so angry with me. Truth was Kay had asked Clay to take some tasteful images of her at the hot springs. She had told Emily and I that she had only removed her top and Clay had creepily taken photos of her when she was unsuspecting. Weird thing is, all the photos I saw of the day after talking with Clay were of Kay completely naked, smiling, and posing. Clay let me know that Kay had taken an edible and drank whiskey that day, she was a mess, and at one point she was falling asleep. He took her to dinner before dropping her off at her car, how could someone terrified for their life suggest dinner? ]

Then, the lies about me started to spill out. Kay said that I had taken advantage of financially. Saying she paid for everything when we went out hiking. I had given Kay a $20 often for driving to hikes,
I would pay for her to eat, and even paying for her to climb at the gym here and there. The shocker, she had told Clay that her and I had discussed being together. What the fuck? Never had I thought of her like that, or had we even discussed being together. But apparently, in her story we talked about it and it was something I didn't want.

WOW.

Gutted.

How could the first person that I let in as a friend do this? How could I be so stupid to trust them? Now, she still spreads her lies about me--what a user I am and the terrible things I say about people. The funny thing is, the terrible things that she usually says I said are what came out of her mouth. I am blunt, there is no talking about others behind their backs in my world.  Her elaborate story about Clay? Well, that's evolved into him drugging her and taking advantage of her. Straight up lies.

I have been so mad.
I have been so angry.

But I am sick of it. I am ready to release this pain that this person caused me.

Sure, this may not seem relevant to my story.  But it is so pivotal in shaping who I am and my experience. The loss of her in life was a huge blow. It felt like a total lie and was the ultimate shock. I was ready to let people in and this hurt. Friends aren't suppose to do these things.

This is something that I have hung on to. I took it with me to Smith Rock and lashed out at people who were just victims of my hurt. For a long time, I felt as if everyone had bad intentions. What's hurt the most is my friends who I introduced to Kay are now close friends with her.

I can only image what lies have been told to them. Tears that I have shed have been too many to count. How could I be so lied to and hurt, yet I was losing my friends. People acted like it was a silly fight, but friends don't say the things she said. Or deliberately hurt people the way she has. Or lie the way she does.

Showing up at Smith, all my emotions came back.  Maybe I was a bad person and everyone would see right through me.

People may think that this is completely inappropriate to post. Yes, I have changed the names out of respect, but this is my story, my truth. I am sick of the lies she tells, how she plays the innocent person, and has hurt people.

Most of all. I am tired. Tired of carrying this burden with me.

By writing this, I am letting go. Letting go of my anger, because I am better than that. I am not a bad person and I have a big heart. I treat the people in my life with respect. If you so desire to disrespect my friendship by believing these lies and want to disrespect me by choosing her friendship that's on you. It has hurt to lose every one of you, but in the end you weren't my friends. I feel bad for those who have  believed the lies and haven't gotten to know me.

And that's what I had to face a Smith right away. Letting go of my hurt and letting people in again.

Part One

 

 

 

 

Writing has been my outlet since I was a young child. It has been the way I have privately documented my pain and struggles. I have always kept notebooks to express myself and to put into words the aloneness, rejection, and depression that have been a burden that seemed too much to bear at times.

 

I spent most of middle and high school being bullied. My confidence was shot and I spent most of my time at school hunched over my desk, leaving me an easy target. Most of my classmates called me the hunchback. It destroyed me inside and made me want to hide even more. I never told my parents or anyone about the nickname. My pain was covered by my goofiness and not to serious attitude. I wasn't a drinker or smoker, my parents didn't have tons of money, and I lacked the emotional support I craved. Growing up, it was emotions that made you weak, and I never wanted appear weak to the outsider. It was important that I buried myself, not letting anything "real" about me show. Nobody could hurt me if I never let them in.

 

As a 31-year-old woman, I look back at my youth, It is heartbreaking, to see the girl who distanced herself from most. I spent most of my weekends locked in my room listening to music and writing. Dreaming of the person I wanted to be. Happy moments in my childhood don't jump out like they do for most. I loved spending time camping with my grandparents and with my aunt, these were the places I could hide and be myself. The world didn't seem to be able to rip me apart in these safe places.

 

I'm not sure if I am ready to talk about my abandonment and self-worth issues comfortably yet. My biological father never was in my life, nor has he ever made too much of an effort. I think my Mom saw a lot of him in me, causing her to resent me. I felt like an outsider often in my own mixed family and lacked direction. For the record, I love my mother and I know she did the best she did.

 

But I was self destructive, things that I now look back on and grasp to understand continue to haunt me. Spending my senior year and my two years out of high school with a boy who was physically and emotionally abusive still baffles my mind. It took me until about two years ago to admit to the fact that he had at one point raped me. After the break-up, I spent the next few years drinking heavily and making choices that still make me wonder why? Often, the only thing I thought I could control was my weight, which turned into an eating disorder. And money?  It's only now that I am beginning to try to get my life on the track of making good financial decisions, my credit is destroyed.  

 

My health is something that never I can seem to get on track, at 19, doctor's found two lime sized ovarian cysts and a tumor in my left ovary. Since, I have had two other surgeries. At 23, I learned that I would never physically be able to get pregnant and have my own children. The affects on my mental health are embarrassing, if I thought my depression and anxiety could be bad, just add in a flair up of my endometriosis.  I deal with pain management often and have had to deal with the fact that my near future does involve the removal of my uterus and ovaries. But the pain is not the worst symptom, to feel like a victim of your body. Especially, when you live an active lifestyle.

 

Wow. Okay, that was heavy. 

 

Life is not perfect. God, how I know that. 

 

This isn't a sympathy posting. This is my life, and writing is my therapy.

 

My Instagram used to be the lies of who I was, pictures that had no real value or meaning. Three years ago, I deleted everything off my handle that weren't true to who I am. I vowed to be as honest as possible with my postings. No, I won't lie to you, I have used tags and hashtags to help market myself, but I do it to help more see my journey just in case it helps someone. Someone who is probably suffering in silence. You see, it's the people who you don't expect that are probably suffering the most.

 

Okay, now you are thinking, why the hell is she sharing all of this back story?

 

I am sharing this because it is a part of my journey.

 

I have been having a tough go of it this Spring and Summer. I feel like a failure. These grand plans to move to Smith Rock and become "Alpine As Fuck" seem to have not gone that way. Truly, I thought I wanted to be a guide and thought it could translate into a non-profit.

 

I don't want to guide, that is what I do know after this season.

 

Climbing became more of a chore for me while living at the bivy for the past 6 months. Yes, I lived at the Smith Rock Campground and Skull Hollow for the past 6 months. I feel back into self-hatred the first few months. Thoughts that plagued my mind: I am too fat, too out of shape, not good enough, and everyone knows what a joke you are.  My endometriosis and depression have been a struggle since before I left Seattle, like a bad habit, I covered it up.

 

Hiking into the park the first few months were a struggle. I was self conscious, everyone was so much better than I am. Did I really have any business even being here? Why is it the one thing that once brought me such happiness and joy was now feeling shameful and embarrassing? I cried, a lot. Paul, felt helpless in his attempts to comfort me. I considered getting in my car more times then I  can remember those first few months. I felt as if I didn't fit in and everyone could see what a phony I was.

 

Who am I?

 

Really, I am asking myself this again.

 

 

(to be continued....)