Ramblings of My Past.

I stared at the emptiness of the space that was once filled with my material possessions.  A closet once filled with numerous dresses and too many pairs of shoes to count was now empty.  I tried to remember the events that had lead me up to the most recent life changing events.

Two years prior, I went through a bad break up with a career and a romantic relationship. Back in those days I cared more about what I had. Looking back, I had no idea who I was. I wanted so badly to keep up the appearances of the life society wanted me to lead. Writing this now, I had a house full of things but was completely empty inside.

There are so many things that I had assumed my life would before I hit thirty. The expectations of marriage and settling down seemed to be a reoccurring theme that surrounded my life. The Seattle vibe pushed for a career, money, and all the fancy things that you could charge on a credit card. After releasing my negativity and anger towards my break-ups, a reoccurring theme started.

Who am I?

Twenty-seven years living, and yet, I had no idea who I was. I spent my life being someone for everyone else. I molded my life to fit the needs of others. The fear of disappointing others ran rampant through my veins.  I was a passenger in my own life.

I could not remember the last time I went out of my way to do something for myself. Life was about others, their needs, and appearances.  Passions, dreams, desires did not exist for me independently.  It was a zombie-like cycle of a 60 hour work week, dividing my time up for my boyfriend's son, and my boyfriend's passions. Saturdays were spent watching middle-aged men play soccer tournaments, meal planning, and drinking heavily while watching sports.

Hating myself.

Who am I?

It was when I discovered a correspondence my boyfriend was having with another female online that discussed his feelings on marriage, children, and how that pertained to our relationship, he ended things. He made sure to put the break-up on me. Making me feel incompetent and that I was mentally unstable. I begged him to give me another chance. Telling him we could work through our issues and that I did not want to live my life without him.

Who was I without him?

My life would be nothing without him (or so I thought). I cried, begged, and was pathetic. How was I desperate over a man who gave me no choices? He was almost ten years older than I was, he had been married, and had a child. When it came to our relationship, he made it clear that marriage would never be a priority and if I wanted kids, I was just out of luck.  I barely could handle moving out. I felt as if I fail him and felt like I failed at life.  My ex of course handle the break up in a mature fashion with partying and keeping me on a string to pull me in whenever he wanted me to come around.

Feeling insane, I started therapy.

What was wrong with me?

Why didn't he love me.

Constantly, I wondered why I was not good enough. I needed something to make me feel needed. I was diligent and committed to helping myself. My ex did eventually come to a therapy session with me, because he claimed he wanted to "work on things".  After the session, my therapist let me know that he wasn't there for the right reasons.  I started dealing with all my mommy, daddy, and every damn problem that shaped how I felt about myself.

Yet, I still had my self-destructive tendencies. I wanted to feel needed and important to someone.  I knew that my ex was looking out for his needs, so it was only fair in my mind that I had someone. I did find someone to pass the time with, Kevin. Still to this day, I feel back for hurting him. But thankful my interaction with this person forced me to look in the mirror. Kevin was a pleaser, much like myself. He would mold himself to like and be who I wanted him to be.

On January 1 of that year, I found myself hiking. A few months prior I considered reaching out to an old co-worker who I knew climbed and hiked to see if I could tag along on some of her adventures. Sadly, she passed away in an avalanche the previous September.  With too much time on my hands and the latest social media obsession, Instagram, I found myself constantly dreaming of mountains. I decided there was no real reason I couldn't be getting outside.

To me now, the hike up to Lena Lake in the Olympic National Forest was nothing compared to the miles I have clocked. But it was what awakened my soul. I was lost, buried deep inside the shell of a person who simply just existed.

It is a weird thing to spend your entire life not knowing who you are. Can you imagine? Going through twenty-seven years of life barely about to touch the surface of who you are. Hiding the depression and anxiety that you had been taught to be ashamed of? This is where things get heavy. I have spent twenty-seven years in denial of my depression. It took me that long to realize that you should not hate what you see in the mirror. The idea of taking your own life wasn't a normal one and that I needed to learn to love myself. Not mold myself to fit someone else's life.

Life Update

Anthony Lakes Ski Area (Oregon). Photo by Paul Jantzi

What a difference a year makes. 

February 2017.  I was working long days at two jobs in preparation to hit the road and move to Smith Rock State Park for the season. Selling and donating most of what I had accumulated over the years was a lot easier than I thought it would be. I felt like a caged animal in my place just outside of Seattle, and I was craving something more in life.  My heart craved adventure. Why was I paying rent for a place I barely slept at?

I thought becoming a guide was what my passion was. The idea was that I would spend my summer getting strong, so I could break into the guiding world and eventually start a non-profit to help others who also suffered from depression and anxiety. Everyone kept telling me that they hoped I found what I was searching for. This greatly offended me at the time. I had gone through a great awakening only a few years prior after a tough break up from both a boyfriend and job. My return to the great outdoors was empowering and I felt confident in the strong woman I had become. Well, I was wrong. It is weird how you fantasy what your life will be like when you make these life-changing decisions. My expectations were high and I was lucky enough to have my other-half, Paul,  with me on this new adventure. 

The seven months I spent at Smith Rock were the best and worst times of my life.

I was on this great adventure, but kept asking myself if I was insane for making this choice. Did I have any business living out of my tent and car? After all, I was thirty-years-old. Our daily routine soon became easier. It's funny how little you really need to be happy.  Most of my peers our focused on what they need to make themselves happy, but it terms out you don't really need much.

The bivy provided me with all that I really needed. My heart longs to go back to the sunsets, the warm sun in the mornings, and even the sounds of the geese. We had a built in family with the people who were also there for the summer and the weekend climbers always provided some sort of entertainment.  

My favorite home location at Smith Rock on the Crater Rim in the late Summer. (Smith Rock State Park, Oregon)

It soon became clear that my stoke and passion for climbing was missing.  How could the thing that brought me most joy, just not be there anymore? That was a hard pill to swallow. I gave up my life in the city for this one, just to find that maybe I did not like climbing anymore. My self-doubt kick in, I thought about going back to Washington often. Without Paul, I would have left and given up. 

Hindsight is always 20/20. THANK GOD I STAYED. 

I was looking for something.

The thing I was looking for was myself. Funny how that works? You think you have it all figured out, but in reality. You have no clue what you are doing and somehow if take time to feel and listen the the experience you'll find your way. I did get a chance to guide on some bigger groups for Smith Rock Climbing Guides (shout out to David Potter) and I had a great time with the high school and college groups.  Although, I knew guiding was not for me, something started to pull at my heart strings. 

Teaching has always been something I talked about. When I graduated from the University of Washington in 2012, I talked about continue my education to my boyfriend at the time who talked me out of it. I started to throw around the idea of teaching again, remembering that the thing that I had always most enjoyed was when I volunteered a summer at the Refugee Transition Center at Kent School District as a Teaching Assistant. 

Probably one of the only times we will ever get to work together. Paul and I guiding a group  for Smith Rock Climbing Guides. Photo by Derrick Peppers (Smith Rock State Park)

We had no idea where we would be over the winter season, and finally we decided on Boise to be close to family. Paul was encouraging of me pursuing my ambitions of teaching. Could I really start all over again? It was in October where I spent some time back up in Seattle that I met with a advisor at Western Washington University for a Master's in Teaching. The choice seemed clear to me, this is what I am suppose to be doing. Although climbing wasn't what I wanted to do as a job, it is my passion and I did not want to stop doing it. Teaching is the outlet where I can make an impact, but still have time for my hobbies.

So, I guess this post is basically a general life update for my family and friends who have been following along with my journey. Wondering what the hell I am doing with my life.

Paul and I are still working through what our normal looks like. We both miss Smith Rock and are fully aware that the fact that we made it through together speaks volumes about our relationship. Not many people could have made it through. We also have spent a lot of time talking about our goals and what we want out of life. We have been making the best out of our time here in Boise. We will be moving to Bellingham towards the end of the summer, we just couldn't see not enjoying a summer in the the Sawtooths and time with our nephew. Paul has made the difficult decision to not pursue guiding as a career. He will be also attending school in the fall to start his pre-nursing program and hopes to volunteer his time with Search and Rescue. 

It's been hard to transition to the idea that we will now be "weekend warriors," but we know that the choices we are making now will make climbing and travel a lot easier in the coming years. We have been lucky enough to take a few trips this winter and have more planned.

First overnight cross country ski trip to Stanley Lake in the Sawtooths was amazing.
Photo by Paul Jantzi (Sawtooth Wilderness, Idaho)

Smith Rock reminded me of how important the relationship I have with myself is.

I wish I could be like the girls that I see on social media who are carefree that travel and make home anywhere. Smith Rock will always be a very special place for me, and we hope we can spend an extended amount of time there every year, but I like routine. As we arrived in Boise, I made sure to focus on routine. My physical health is very much apart of my mental health. I committed to a gym routine and am feeling strong and healthy. Let me tell you, I am addicted to the Body Pump Classes. Focusing on continuing my education has been a good stress. Hopefully, I will get to do some sub teaching while we are here in Boise, but no matter what I am excited to start school in the fall.

My break from climbing has also been freeing.

Being caught up on how hard I was climbing and comparing myself to others is pretty stupid. Honestly, I do not really care what others are doing. It is awesome to see others pushing themselves and accomplishing their goals, but I cannot define myself by what others do. I have had more fun with getting out and being silly. The best times I have had have been with Paul where we are just laughing and enjoying the outdoors.  Learning to ski this winter has been FUN. I don't feel like I have to be the best skier. Honestly, I don't care if I am the best at anything outdoors. Letting go of expectations has been freeing. 

Paul and I at Stargaze Point. (Idaho)

And of course, I have missed Washington.

Washington is home and it is nice finally knowing where my home is. Some people search their whole lives to find a place to call home. Sometimes it takes leaving to realize that is where you have always belonged. Returning to my home state of Idaho has reminded me of why I left and made me thankful for how far I have come.  I do love that moving here has showed me how to live an active lifestyle in a "city" setting.  I have started to face my fears when it comes to bike community. Yeah, I still mainly ride on the sidewalk, but it is pretty awesome to ride my bike 4 miles a day to and from work. I also love that I can go  for a quick hike after work at Camel Back State Park, or I can drive 45 minutes up to Bogus Basin to ski (Shout out to Michele for hooking me up with some park skis). 

One bad thing, our car was stolen about a month ago. After it was stolen, we started talking about replacing it with a van so trips would be easier on the weekends. A week later, the police found out car.  Good news, we are still going to get a van.  We have been pretty lucky with our time here and I feel very blessed to have Paul's brother Ben, his wife, Jackie, and their son, Obi, around. They have made living here  special and made it easier to be away from other family.  They will be what I miss most when we leave.  

I still have lots of big mountain dreams, but I have more realistic expectations for myself.

Perhaps, the most important lesson that I take from last year is that I am capable of anything, but I am my own worst enemy. Once I let that voice say I can't, well I can't. It is easy to get caught up on what you wish you could be doing.  All the people I know in Washington will soon be posting pictures of TC on Dragontail and the North Ridge of Baker, but I am content with what we have here. Those mountains are not going anywhere and right now, it probably isn't the best time for me to be doing those things. Sure, I have an endless list in Washington, but I won't be there for much of alpine season. But I do plan on climbing Mount Rainier and N. Ridge of Mount Stuart this year. All attainable goals, all things I am capable of .

Plus, I think the Sawtooths will keep me more than occupied for the rest of our time here. Did I mention that we are close to Utah and Wyoming too? And for those of you who are interested, my bucket list out here includes:

The Grand Teton

Climbing at Indian Creek

CITY OF ROCKS (duh)

Mount Heyburn

Borah Peak

Anything Lost River Range

Yellowstone National Park

My Project at Smith Rock

Three Sisters Traverse

Seven Devils Hike

And anything else that comes my way in the Sawtooths or Lost River Range.

Evening hike at Camel Back State Park. (Boise, Idaho)

And I am still looking for something, we all are.

I think once I stop looking for something,  I will stop growing and evolving. I plan on living a long and happy life. If I can't keep learning and becoming a better me, what's the point?  Life is one big adventure and I hope to still be roaming the mountains well into my 70s (yeah, the PCT is on my bucket list) and with luck, Paul will be by my side.

Life isn't perfect, but there are so many perfect moments.

I know things will always be changing and times will get hard. My life isn't perfect, I struggle often with my anxiety and depression. I am broken, but I think that is what makes me that much more appreciative for what I have. People will always judge me for being me and the choices I make. I know I have been a bad friend and family member sometimes, not gone to weddings and other events, but I love my people.  My hope is to be able to balance family and adventure better in the coming years.  But please know, often times my lack of physical presence doesn't mean I don't care.

To Paul, thank you for enjoying the journey with me, even when the times our tough and when I freak out about money. Thank you for being the provider the past few months, your unconditional love, random dance parties, and your constant support.  Growing old with you is something that I look forward too.  

This is not what I imagined life being like a year ago, but I do know that the outdoors will always be my place where I am most me. To Smith Rock, thank you for helping me to find what I was looking for. Thank you for making me push myself, cry, and love and hate you.

Bogus Basin, November. Photo by Paul Jantzi (Idaho)

Hopeless Wanderer (Part 5 )

Smoke and Morning Light at Smith Rock State Park from the Bivy. Photo by: Laura Berridge

2017.

Where have you gone? 

I was thinking about everything that has happened this year. 

There were no alpine summits or ticks checked off my climbing list.

I see the accomplishments of others on my Instagram feed, big mountain dreams achieved. While I felt my dreams sat at a standstill.  The way I imagined how my life would play out this year is much different than I expected.

I would describe myself as a late bloomer. I spent most of my twenties confused about who I was, focusing on molding myself into be someone that society told me I had to be.  I have a college degree from one of the best universities on the west coast (University of Washington) and worked my way up the corporate latter where I made failing Applied Behavior Analysis Program successful. 

 I started hiking again at age 27. Then came the mountaineering, rock and ice climbing at 29. 

Yes, I am 31. ( I can hear the gasp through the computer screen.) 

Right after my 30th Birthday, I met Paul on Mount Stuart through our mutual friend. First off, I was as single as single could be. The idea of being in a relationship seemed like a good idea on some days, but most of the time I savored my single life. I had nothing holding me back from doing whatever I wanted. Plus, I seemed to have dated a long line of assholes that year.  When it comes down to it, I really enjoyed being able to pack up and head out whenever I wanted too.

I fought my feelings for Paul for the first year of our relationship. The commitment of moving to Smith Rock for a season was something that I would not give up and I made it clear to Paul that their was no changing my mind. For the record, Paul Jantzi is a saint. He has loved me since before I knew I love him. He accepts my flaws and has shown me what unconditional love is. Paul toughed it out the entire winter living in a tiny camper in Plain, Washington to make our relationship and my dream of Smith Rock a reality. 

Leading up to the move, I did not know if I would keep my sanity.  My work schedule was a nightmare, I split my time between being a Feathered Friends Sales Associate and Server/Bartender at Sansei Sushi. I worked 15-18 hours days Thursday through Saturday, and only had Sundays off.  Paul and I were lucky to see each other once a month. My time outside was rare, but convinced myself that it would all be worth it.

In my mind, it had to be worth it. My previous season started out so strong, I was in the best shape of my life. I was pushing myself and accomplishing goals, until I took a grounder on lead.  At first, I tried to deny that anything was wrong. It really messed me up and I have not lead trad in over a year. 

In January, Paul and I agreed with no question that he would go to Smith Rock State. This was the scariest thing that I did in 2017.  I had come to the realization that Paul coming with me meant taking an even bigger risk. The biggest risk of failure a relationship. Our relationship is something that doesn't come along often. We are completely ourselves with each other, there are no apologies  for who we are. You know all those weird quarks you thought you had to hide from someone before? Well, that wasn't an option for us. You can't hide anything when you live out of a car and a tent with someone.

*Side Note: Paul was hired as a rock climbing guide for Smith Rock Climbing Guides for the season when we took a quick weekend trip to the park in March before the move.

Paul and I at the base of the South Sister in the Sisters Wilderness outside of Bend, Oregon. (May 2017)

What makes our relationship even more unique is our climbing partnership. The ability to take away the  romantic relationship in the mountains can often be a difficult one. You see your partner at that worst, best, and see how they handle some of the most stressful situations. We have lucked out and have been able to make it work very well. It is what bonds us, it is what makes our relationship strong. When our relationship struggles, we know we need to set away time for the mountains so we can reconnect.

Have I mentioned that looks and comments that have been made when I have told people that I made the choice to live out of a tent with my boyfriend for 7 months? As a woman, it's harder to be a "climbing dirtbag" as opposed to being male. Society is still learning how to react to lady dirtbag, they seem to understand the man thing. Men are allowed to be filthy, covered in dirt, cuts, bruises, and be making questionable life choices until they find someone to settle down with.  When it comes down to it, I often wonder why this is such a hard thing to comprehend. Then again, society doesn't really get the whole sell all your possessions and minimalist living thing.

Trust me, before we left, I thought we needed all this money to buy things for our simpler living. I did not think we would be able to make it without certain things.  It was easier to part with everything that I had purchased throughout the years to furnish my first apartment. Over the final days, I was detached from most everything. My furniture and other items no longer served purpose in my life.

We spent a few days in Leavenworth, Washington and my hometown of Post Falls, Idaho on our way out to Smith Rock. We climbed, but I noticed in the pit of my stomach that the stoke was missing. At first, I thought this was just because I spent the past 6 months doing nothing but work.  It seemed to be something more as time went on.

The first few months at Smith Rock were cold and I was in search of my stoke. I found myself getting on top-rope and feeling terrified; it was as if I had never climbed a day in my life. I would cry and question whether or not I had made the right choice to drop my entire life and live this way. How would I ever be a guide if I couldn't even climb on top-rope?  That was my entire idea on why I wanted to give up everything and move to the park wasn't it?

Climbing was not fun anymore. I felt that I had lost myself and that I couldn't find the previous years stoke.  I would get on rock with the fear, it would take over every ounce of my being. Begging and pleading with Paul to let me come down. The negativity flowed over me, I couldn't find anything to be thankful for and my depression swept over me. 

I couldn't deal. How is it that I loved something so much and now it felt like the worst thing in the world to me? I struggled, but I was surrounded by the most amazing people who were also long term residents at the Smith Rock Bivy. We had structure with our morning yoga routines, Albert would play John Mayer songs while we searched for motivation to climb, Brian and Matt would smoke themselves silly while contemplating mysteries of the world, and I would perfect my culinary skills on the Coleman Camp Stove. I worked three days a week at a bar in town as a bartender to keep some sort of income.

In July, I finally started feeling like myself again. 

It was time to get back on lead, so I started working Nine Gallon Buckets (5.10) and was making progress and feeling strong. I found myself scared on lead when climbing the fourth bolt, and that's when I decided I needed to take the fall. What was I so scared of? I had already had the worst thing happen last year with my grounder and the injury to my ankle. I let go of fear in that moment and fell. It was a 20 foot whip, but little did I know the injury that was in store for me. My right middle finger pulley would pay the price for my fall. It was freeing when I fell, letting go, and telling myself that I would be okay. Unfortunately for me, pulley injuries take a lot of time to heal.

The negative consumed me again. I couldn't climb. Pulling down on my finger killed.

Paul Jantzi enjoying one of his favorite activities in his living room at the Smith Rock Bivy. (Photo by Laura Berridge)

Just when I started to feel better about climbing and started to let go, I found myself hurt, again. I felt like it was the universe telling me to give up climbing. Why did I push myself to do such a stupid activity I thought? Why did I give up everything to do nothing? I could not get into the mountains because the fires shut down the Sisters Wilderness. All the people I knew in Washington were crushing it. We didn't have the fund to travel and climb. My job barely covered our bills and Paul guiding was so unreliable. I felt stuck, I questioned every choice, and thought about coming back to Washington all the time. 

In August, I started helping out with the big groups for Smith Rock Climbing Guides. It was official, I never would be a guide.  We had also saved just enough to take a week long trip to Washington. We had a permit to camp up in the Enchantments at Stuart Lake with Sherpa Peak in mind and considered the West Ridge of Stuart (which I had figured was off the table with my low confidence and feelings about climbing).This was the trip I needed.

We spent our entire trip detached from everyone and everything. Our relationship had been hard, we struggled, you know how hard it is to adjust to living with someone 24.7?  We felt home again, we slept at the Barney's Rubble Parking Lot where we had so many nights the previous summer, swam at our spot on the river, and swooned over the granite that we had missed so much. 

When it was time for our trip up to Stuart Lake, I was terrified. All I had done that past summer was hike the park, so I was feeling like I was going to be the weak link. We loaded up our climbing gear and headed up. My pack was heavy, but nothing seemed so bad. All that I loved and missed was right in front of me. We danced when we found our perfect camping spot, enjoyed some sips of whiskey,  and went over the plan for Sherpa Peak the next morning. 

We woke up before 4am to find ominous skies and rain. Instead of type 2 fun, we would be settling for a hike up to Colchuck Lake. I wasn't even mad because we had experienced so much happiness. We got back down to the car around dinner time. That's when Paul said that we should attempt the West Ridge of Stuart on our last few days. I was reluctant and afraid, but he said he knew I could do it. So we packed for the next day. The conditions were perfect, we had the creek campsites to ourselves, we woke up the next morning to realize that this was happening.  We followed our BETA and enjoyed a rockfall filled climb. We decided to go light and fast because we did not want to have to bivy and had a turnaround time at 3pm. At 2:15pm, we realized that somewhere we had gone the wrong way and found ourselves on the opposite side of the summit (about 800ft below). I was heartbroken, but accepted that was our summit for the day.

The descent took over 8 hours, it was full of rusty pitons, tree rappels, and avoiding getting taken out by rockfall. By the time we had made it back to our tent I was delirious and exhausted. We didn't make dinner that night and just ate all of our snacks. The trek out the next morning was exhausting and I was happy to sleep in a real bed that evening. At first, I felt sad about not making the summit. My entire year felt like a failure and I believed I was a failure. Living at Smith Rock surrounded by crushers and watching my friends in Washington climb big alpine objectives left me wanting more. 

The realization happened shortly after we returned to the park. Daily cragging isn't my passion, it's the type 2 alpine climbing that is what makes me feel alive. I use to spend all of my time comparing myself to all these people at the park who were crushing all these hard routes. Then I realized that the majority of these people would not find enjoyment out of hiking 40 miles in a few days with 40-50 pound packs to be rained out or shut down by navigation issues. 

I pushed through until September, headed to Washington for the month of October to make money for our move to Boise. I was able to get back into my routine of Hot Yoga and got to check off some hikes in the area. Struggling with the idea that maybe I wasted 7 months of my life. What was I doing with my life?  

I have been in Boise, Idaho for two months now.  And you don't know what you really have until it is gone.  I miss Smith Rock, I cried the day we left. Smith Rock would never be home again, I would never feel the same. Nothing can explain how beautiful the evening ski filled with starts and the shadows of the rock towers makes you feel. How being in this situation changed my life. I am not even close to the same person that I was a year ago. All those things I thought I needed when we moved there? Yeah, I did not need any of them. It doesn't take much to make me happy.  

The moral of the story? All those people who kicked ass on their goals this year, congratulations. Sometimes it's not accomplishing the objectives that really makes you grow. I was forced out of my element, to see what life is really made of, and to grow. To look my demons square in the face and say this is me.

Goals for 2018?

I have them, but I don't have my heart set on anything (okay, except for finally sitting on the summit of Mount Stuart).  I am still a hopeless wanderer and probably will even as I turn into an old lady. I'll be focusing on gaining some ski skills, ice climbing, yoga, and loving/accepting myself.  I'll start school to continue my education in Fall 2018 at Western Washington University. I think history and  teaching has always been my true passion. With this career change I'll be able to make a positive impact on kiddos, but be able to have the flexibility to do the things I love. Paul had made a pretty big change of plans over the past few weeks and I am very excited for him.We both know Western Washington is home and are excited for our own place in the coming months closer to our friends and the mountains we love so much. 

I don't regret a thing from this year.  It's the things we don't do that we regret most in our life and I have grown so much from 2017. Here is to another amazing year.

Until the next adventure.

Tips for Living with Depression

It is that time of the year, where the days get shorter and we find our daylight limited. I call this time of year, the wait period. Waiting for the ice to get nice, the ski resorts to open, avoiding avalanche danger and  the downpour of rain the mountains offer. Yeah, it's basically the time of year I dread the most, because my depression seems to kick into high gear. After a rough year that kicked off its reign last November,  I decided I was no longer going to be a prison to my depression. 

I decided to be brutally honest with myself and re-examine the things that help me live a happier, healthy life.  I am no expert and never will claim to be. But I want to share what it is I do to be the best me I can be throughout the winter and anytime of the year.  

1. Acknowledge How You Feel/ Self-Awarness:

It is okay to look in the mirror and say, " I am not fine today." Being able to acknowledge where you are at, but not beating yourself over your emotions. It is okay to say, I am depressed and that does not define who I am. For me, I try to hold myself accountable for self-scans of my mind and body. The number one way I do this is with my yoga practice. I go to class 2 to 3 times a week to stay in tune. When I feel a certain way I feel it, I acknowledge the presence of the feeling. There is something empowering about being able to sit with your feelings and say, I am feeling this way and that is okay.

2. Friendship

Having friends that you can talk to and be there for you when you are not feeling too hot is very important. People who love you no matter what. It has also become a personal rule to not drag my support system down with negativity (or myself). Your friends hold you accountable when you feel like you cannot fight the depression alone.

3. Working Out

I make it a point to include cardio in my weekly routine. Sometimes it's just jumping on the stationary bike or row machine for 30 minutes. But most of the time it's going to a group class that pushes me and makes me work hard. Trust me, most of the time I would rather go straight home and crawl into bed after a long work day, but I feel so much better about myself after a work out.

4. Going Outside

I feel like this is a no brainer, but for me, it is probably the hardest one. It's COLD, and I don't like being cold, and I don't like getting rained on. Recently, I have made "getting outside" apart of my routine 4-5 days a week with my bike/walk routine. I get 15-30 minutes to and from work to be with my thoughts. To notice the beauty of the world around me, like cute squirrels or the changing of the colors of leaves. When the sun is out, even if I have only an hour, I make myself go hiking. Even if it's the local hiking spot. When I have a full day, I do everything to do a bigger hike.

5. Setting Small Goals

I am guilty, guilty of obsessing over the big mountains, the big picture. Recently, I have slowed down. Realized that small goals get you to the big goals. Maybe it's getting in a certain amount of mileage on the trails, having a route at the climbing gym as a project, or one winter goal. For me, that winter goal is becoming a decent skier.

6. Healthy Eating

We are what we eat. Yeah, it's cliche, but it works for me. I get lazy, it's easy to eat pizza, fast food, and out a lot when I do not want to cook. At the end of the day, what I put in the body has a lot to do with how I view my body. I put crappy food into it, I feel pretty crappy about myself. The thing that has worked best for me is cutting meat and processed food out of my diet. I've even made it a point to ensure that lunch and dinner are Vegan meals. It's amazing how little you crave bad food when you are eating healthy, yummy food.

7. Positive Self Talk

I have said some pretty terrible things about myself. Looked in the mirror and picked out ever imperfection. But you know what, that isn't good for me. I often repeat a few times a day, " I am capable, I am smart, and I am strong." I try not to let myself bad mouth me. I look in the mirror and focus on the positives that make me great. I don't allow myself to say things about myself that I would not say about my friends. 

8. Routine

Sounds funny right? But working and having a routine helps me to keep my life in check. I am not consumed with my thoughts and I don't have a ton of free time to feel sorry for myself. I work a schedule that doesn't change very often. I have certain yoga and gym classes that I go to every week. In my opinion, we all crave a little bit of routine.

These are all just suggestions, but they have really helped me. I know that things will always be changing, but I hope by following along with these things I will be a better healthier me.

Part 4

Gratitude

Photo By Laura Berridge

I was consumed once. Consumed by everything I thought I needed to be happy.

The past is a funny place, especially when the present is completely different. I remember being a little girl and feeling alone. Feeling like I did not belong, that I would never find my way. My adult life was not much different. The desire to be accepted and loved consumed me. I thought that the more things I had, the happier I would be. Does the "stuff" really make me happy?

Nine months ago, I felt noble. Noble because I was strong enough to sell all of my material items and condense my life down to nine boxes to store at my parents house. Everything I needed was packed into my car. My dad and boyfriend, Paul spent 6 hours the day before we took of to Smith Rock State Park making us a build out to better utilize our space. I kept thinking about all the stuff we still needed to "be happy" on our adventure. I kept wondering how we would be able to make it without certain items.

As it turns out, we did not need much to keep us happy. In hindsight, I can say, how lucky was I to spend the past 7 months living out of my tent and car? It was hard, I won't lie. Adjusting to my new life was very challenging. Now, I miss it.

I miss so much.

Brian and Matt. Their messy table at the bivy and their acceptance of who I am.

Albert and his extravagant breakfast. His dog, Hana's attitude and focus on catching any small animal she could get her paws on.

David's genie pants.

The party we had up at Skull Hallow where I was convinced that Q and Michael were a little to obsessed with the axe. I still giggle at Brian almost lighting himself on fire telling us all that he wasn't wet from the rain because he was dry by the fire.

Meeting the self-proclaimed "God" who had probably done way to much LSD to not believe it.

Albert playing my favorite songs on guitar.

Mandy's perfectly planned out days.

Alec's breakfast company and innocent giggle.

Walking to our tent with all of Smith lit up by the moonlight.

Sunsets.

The guy who knocked on people's tent claiming to be "Forest Service" and telling us to leave because we overstayed the 14 day limit at the bivy.

Kyle's banter at the picnic table and frequent flatulence.

Tony's emotional rollercoaster life. (He was the guy with the lifted van that said "Meaner than a junkyard dog" and played his music too loud)

Stan, Linda, and Bogey taking such good care of us when the smoke and heat were too much to bear.

Our bivy crew yoga.

Paul reading aloud to me in the tent while the sky was lit up.

All those things I think I needed, I didn't. What I really needed was to grow and change. I got lost for a while, consumed by things that did not serve me. I went into the experience with the expectation to become the best climber I could be. Really, I am coming out becoming the best human being I can possibly be. I was changed by the bivy crew. They forced me to look deeper into myself.  

The world around me has become a different place. I use to be consumed by what others were doing. Now, I find myself focused on improving myself and my personal relationships. Now as the holidays roll around, I find myself wondering what I could really need? 

I have so much gratitude for the things I already have. 

The experience of living out of my car and tent for 7 months is something I am still trying to fully understand. I have all the love I could want, all the things that I need (although, some new skis and mountaineering boots would be nice), and friends that I will have for a lifetime. 

As we start the season of consumerism. I challenge everyone to count all the things you have that money can't buy. 

And to the bivy crew.

I love you all.

Part Three

Part Three:  Social Media

You have no business on that route.

  

She only climbs to be cool.

Did you do that just for the picture?

Do you even really climb?

All of these things echoed throughout my mind constantly while I was at Smith Rock this season.  I felt like I had some much pressure to climb hard, all of my friends were leading and climbing all these amazing mountains.

 And me? I was endlessly scrolling through my Instagram feed, jealous. Jealous that I was not doing things that others were. I could not get out of my funk. Climbing use to be something that brought me so much happiness, it was my escape. Here I was, I sold all my belongings and was living out of my car. But I did not even want to do the thing that I had quit society for. The insecurity that I felt about my climbing did not make it fun. As a typical millennial, I believed that there were so many expectations for me to climb hard, even I thought I should be climbing hard. 

Honestly, I never really know how to respond when someone sends me a message asking me to climb with them. Apologizing for not being on my level, are you kidding me "my level"? The last 6 months, my level has equaled absolutely no stoke or drive to climb. The fact was that every time I felt the slightest bit of stoke I would get discourage, scared, or injured. 

Words that often came out of my mouth when leaving the park:

Do I even like climbing?

I think I am just going to quit climbing.

Maybe I made a huge mistake.

And the let's not forget about the tears.

Was everyone right? Did I actually have no business living this lifestyle? Was I a fraud? I felt sad, angry, and lost. I missed the mountains (sorry Oregon, Washington mountains have my heart), my friends, and granite. Everyone on social media seemed to be living these perfect lives with their successful summits. I felt everyone was growing, while I was falling behind.  I made no secret of my dislike to Smith Rock to the locals. To be honest, I just did not like myself. I became obsessed with Instagram and how lame my life seemed to be.  

Yeah, I know right? I was living the adventure, but my life was lame.  That is the shitty thing about depression, it does not care where you are in life to strike. I had all these goals for myself for last season, I wanted to climb more mountains and become a strong climber. Let me tell you something that sucks, when you are a strong climber, but your mind just won't allow it. 

But I really believed all those negative things that people said to me via social media. I hated pictures of myself. I was uncomfortable with my upper body, my shoulders and arms seemed to bulk up.  Why didn't I look like the girls I saw plastered all over the internet?  Why wasn't I as good as them?

Yeah, I know what the guys are thinking right now. Stop looking at the internet and stop caring. Wish I could have, but sometimes that is just not how your mind works.  After I few months, I started to get out of my funk. I got back on lead on a 5.10, was feeling strong.

I am strong.

I am confident.

I am capable.

Finally, I was believing it. The sharp end has a funny way of dealing with confidence. I took a 20 foot whipper and injured my pulley in the process. Wow, that was a blow. I was just starting to like this climbing thing again, and there it is, injured.  The self-hate sunk in again.  All I wanted was to find my sparkle again.

Let me tell you, the mountains are therapy.

We took a trip to The Enchantments and Mount Stuart in August. Exactly what the doctor ordered. We had a permit for an evening in the Enchantments and intended to climb Sherpa Peak. It was an amazing hike, perfect sunset, temperatures, and I felt connected to myself and Paul again. We awoke to rain that more, Sherpa Peak would have to wait. But the hike up to Colchuck Lake that afternoon was relaxing. 

 After a lovely two days in the Enchantments, we returned to Leavenworth for the night and Paul convinced me that we should try for the West Ridge of Stuart. All the thoughts of self doubt rushed in, I heard all the people who doubted me in my mind. This would also be the first time Paul and I would do  a big objective together.  This was my mountain, I wanted it bad. The first time I thought this was possible was two years ago, but I didn't want to sufferfest so I opted to turn around at Long's Pass to avoid rain/snow. Last year, I let my head, other people, and an injury get in my way. This mountain and I had unfinished business.  Paul and I really lucked out on this trip, weather was perfect. The hike in to Ingalls Creek was enjoyable and I although we had longed a lot of mileage we still were laughing and in high spirits. Opting to go fast and light, we left before daylight that morning, we had discussed a turnaround time, and felt pretty good as we started up the route.  

As the day went on, I remembered who I was. That I was capable, confident, and this was my element. Why had I listened so much and compared myself to others so often?  Sure, lots of people can climb hard at Smith Rock and that is awesome. But I am not sure how many people would willingly wear a forty pound pack on an approach (we had logged well over 35 miles over 4 days) and what we love to do is not everyone's idea of fun. As we approached what we thought were the 3 class ledges, I felt that the summit was finally going to happen. Sadly, the common thing that happens on the West Ridge is navigation errors. We had taken one wrong turn, it was 2:15, our turn around time was 3. There was no way that we would make it to the summit within 45 minutes. The climbing part did not take us long at all, but we knew the descent would be miserable. We had dealt with falling rock the enter way up and were thankful we were the only ones on the route. 

Getting down took 8 hours, I was delusional by the time we got to camp. Of course, I was disappointed that we did not make it to the summit. But I was exhausted, we stuffed our faces with snacks and passed out fast. The next morning, I was exhausted. Paul is a saint for dealing with my cranky attitude for the first hour on the hike out. My shoulders hurt, heavy packs aren't very forgiving. 

The trip to Washington was what I needed. Although I did not get the summits I thought I needed. I got what I needed, I was reminded of my love for the outdoors and climbing. The realization that I did not like cragging came shortly after, and guess what, I am okay with that. I kind of have a rule now, if I am not feeling the climbing that is okay. I am still spending time with my friends, and that is all that matters. The benefits of this trip were too many to count, but I was really happy to know that Paul and I were able to make excellent alpine partners. 

And you know what? All summer I was so obsessed with how lame my summer was compared to others on Social Media. I stopped caring. I stopped caring about how if I posted pictures from this trip if anyone would make a snarky comment about not reaching the summit, I stopped caring about how I looked, because I felt like the best me was coming back.

Sure, I had about a month and a half left at Smith Rock, but I didn't take it so seriously. We all only get one shot and no one cares what I am doing. And if they really want to make their rude and snarky comments what do I care? Their lives must be pretty lame if they want to worry about me.

I guess what I am trying to say is, since my Instagram has started to grow, I have noticed how others (and sometimes myself) can get really competitive about what you are climbing. To be honest, I stopped caring what others are doing, nor do I really care. The outdoors is the "cool" thing to do right now, which makes me sad that others may be missing out on the experience. I've been there, it sucks to miss out on the experience.  

My rant is basically this. 

BE YOU. Nobody else can do it.

BE SAFE. Make good judgement calls, do not rush into doing something you aren't prepared for the worst case scenario. Rope Rescue and Crevasse Rescue, those life saving skills to have.

BE PREPARED. Know that things can go wrong. And although you may be a 5.12 climber,  Class 4 & 5 feels a lot different than the alpine.

REMIND YOURSELF OF WHY YOU ARE DOING IT. If you are thinking about your Instagram pictures before you even get there, you may be doing it for the wrong reason.

PUT DOWN THE PHONE.  Just seriously, put it down. Who cares what so and so is doing.

And last, NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR WHO YOU ARE. You are enough and if someone wants to make you feel like you aren't screw them.

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.