At 19 I finally left home to pursue a lifelong dream of living in the mountains out west! After having my first taste of the mountains, I decided to leave Indiana and take a gap year to fully experience mountain life.
"Drive away in the middle of the night with little to no memorabilia, just enough money to get somewhere far away, find a job, give yourself a cool new name, and start your new life and let your old self fade away in the rear view mirror."
My mom once asked me how I turned out to be a good kid. I didn’t think I was a good kid, I just didn’t do a whole lot to piss her or anyone else off. My dad used to tell me that I was too nice, and that, that’s a good way for people to walk all over you. I wouldn’t have described myself as “nice”, so much as “doormat”. Although, I don’t believe in such a thing as being “too nice” (because you wouldn’t walk up to Mother Teresa, Ghandi, or the Dalai Llama and be like “You’re too nice, cut the shit.”) he had a point. I once paid for a hotel online, went to the hotel, and when they asked me for payment; instead of saying, “I already paid online,” I just handed over my debit card (to be fair I’d been driving from sun up to sundown and just didn’t care past a certain point, and I knew she’d figure it out). And despite the fact that I’m a 21 year old woman, I still get anxious when I order my coffee or God forbid have to schedule a doctors appointment, and end up making too much small talk. At one of my last jobs, I had to tie a figure eight retrace with a climbing rope and show my boss in order to get belay certified. I did it at least ten times just fine, and when I finally had to show her I could barely remember how hands function. Afterwards I felt like a complete failure and took every chance I could get to kiss her ass and prove myself. Sometimes its not just about being nice, its about just trying to get by, and to hopefully convince a few people that you know what you’re doing. Frankly, I’m not nice or ditsy or overly polite; I’m just anxious. People don’t always think of it this way, but being nice can just be a defense mechanism. Not that you shouldn’t treat people well – I’ve found that life is a lot less stressful when you show kindness and forgiveness, but this has too often also led to avoidance. You know that meme about canceling plans being the equivalent of shooting up heroine? My life is that meme. Some people may be thinking, “Elizabeth, do you even lift? I’ve had a panic attack every other day of my life, you have no idea what its like to live with severe anxiety.” To which I would reply: everyone has their own way of dealing with anxiety. It’s a spectrum which manifests itself in a myriad of ways. For me it tends to be in social situations, but occasionally I can find myself in a room, and without warning I can’t breathe and I need to get up and go outside or get a drink of water until my heart rate settles. Oftentimes I ask myself how I became this way. Was it the result of the bullying at some point in my life? Was it the strict household I grew up in? Do I drink too much caffeine? Is it all of the above?
More than likely, its hereditary. I’m not the only one in my family who panics because of small things, and its more common than one would think. A surprising amount of people I’ve talked to believe that they have some form of anxiety. Nearly half of all adults in the United States are diagnosed with some kind of anxiety disorder, and its the most common mental health issue in our nation. But many people manage to overcome it on a day to day basis, one of them being my mother. My mom is one of the funniest people I’ve ever met, and is also oftentimes the loudest and most outgoing person in the room. Not to mention she’s also one of the toughest women I’ve ever met, and never asks anything from anyone. She also won “most quiet” her senior year of high school when she graduated. My mom once told me that she got detention and had to eat in her teachers classroom by herself instead of the cafeteria. She chuckled, saying, “I wished I could eat in that classroom every day, because I wouldn’t have to talk to anyone!”
So how did she become the person she is today? Determination to be who she wanted; the life of the party and someone who doesn’t give a f*ck what anyone thinks. My uncle once told me that she was at this dull college party where everyone was feeling awkward and uncomfortable, so my mom went to the bathroom and stuck a long string of toilet paper to the bottom of her shoe and walked out of the bathroom just to break the ice and give everyone a laugh. If that wasn’t inspiring enough, my mom once told me a story about a really naggy roommate that she would always fight with. She told me that once this roommate and her friends came into my mothers room threatening to fight her, so she just stripped completely naked and they left. “No ones gonna fight you if you’re naked.” she advised me.
Growing up I always sought this kind of crazy courage, but I had to find my own way of breaking through the wall my anxiety had built between myself and the world around me.
When I was 17, I took one of the best classes of my life: IB Psychology with Mr. O’Hara, who was one of those teachers who could tell a hell of a story and still help you learn something about not only the material, but yourself as well. He was Robin Williams in Dead Poet Society good. I remember one particular day when we were talking about different personality disorders, particularly dissociative disorders. There are many kinds of dissociative disorders, but in essence the goal of any dissociative disorder is to avoid experiencing the emotional pain you’re feeling. He told us about extreme cases where people would lose their ability to move when a loved one was drowning, or someone would lose their eyesight or hearing in the middle of a war-zone. The most interesting one, in my opinion, was the fugue state – which many argue doesn’t even exist. A fugue state is where out of nowhere you forget your identity completely (basically amnesia) and you run away somewhere and start a completely different life with a completely different identity. No past, only the future lies ahead.
I think a lot of us have fantasized at one point or another about going into a fugue state. Drive away in the middle of the night with little to no memorabilia, just enough money to get somewhere far away, find a job, give yourself a cool new name, and start your new life and let your old self fade away in the rear view mirror.
And so the itching began.
I can remember one time in the middle of January I left my dorm room in the middle of the night and walked around my colleges campus, listening to music and daydreaming about someplace warmer and extremely far from Indiana. It was like something out of the song “California Dreamin” by The Mamas and The Papas. Once I had circled the campus I was freezing cold, and began to walk back to my building. As I walked back, I passed by my car, where I stopped. I stood there staring at it for I don’t know how long. I knew that I had enough money to probably make it at least 2000 miles west. Someplace where the skies were blue, people didn’t own confederate flags, maybe even in the mountains where people stacked logs for wood burning stoves in the winter and went backcountry skiing. I wouldn’t even look at a map when I left, I would just drive and drive until I got tired. I would stay somewhere for the night, get up the next morning, and just keep going until I found my home. I would be a barista or a ski instructor, or both, because why not?
I knew it wasn’t possible. I mean, it could’ve been, but I had a 9am in the morning and a mom who would’ve been pissed if I’d used tuition money on a new life as a barista/ski instructor. So I went to bed with a yearning in my chest. If only I could just leave, then everything would feel right in the world.
This past year I finally got to itch that scratch. I’ll be going home tomorrow, and I guess I wanted to reflect on what I wanted from this year and what I actually got out of it. From May to December I was living in Bailey, Colorado and worked as both a camp counselor and an outdoor education instructor, from December to January I was a barista in Vail, Colorado, and then from January to present I’ve been a ski instructor for preschoolers in Lake Tahoe, California. This past year I slept in a teepee in the Rocky Mountains for two months, ventured on a crazy four corners plus Wyoming weekend road trip with my best friend, went technical canyoneering in Utah, sold plasma for Lumineers tickets in Denver, sailed in a yacht on Lake Tahoe to Fannette Island, met more people than I can count (mostly hippies), shoveled my height in snow, nearly died hiking to a waterfall, fought and reconnected and struggled some more with God, made lifelong friends and got to see some of the most beautiful creation and coffee the US has to offer. I can remember before I left for Colorado, I wanted more than anything to understand myself better, to break out of my shell, and to see God in my life again.
I can’t say that I’ve burned up all my anxiety by throwing myself out into the unknown, at a certain period that only made things worse – but after pushing through the uncertainty I’ve learned to let go of a lot of things. I’m pretty sure I’ve gotten fairly better at not really giving a shit what people think. Some people will see you through rose colored glasses, others won’t see you at all, and that’s alright. You have to be the one to see your potential, no one else can do that for you. I’ve also learned that it’s better to be alone than to keep bad company, and that dogs are pretty much always the best company.
I realize that I’ve already mentioned this in my last post, but I did see God this year. God is always there, but I’ve been able to actually take the time to notice him. I saw him in the eyes of the girls I looked after this summer, I saw him on the summits of mountains, I saw him in a room full of voices crying out in love and arms raised in surrender. God is the reason that I can get up, walk out the door, and experience life every day. Even though I’ve met some ugly people this year, I’ve mostly met kind, interesting, free spirited people. People who appreciate God in every form, whether they believe in the universe, a higher power, or Christ himself, I’ve noticed that everyone seems to have the same appreciation for the beautiful world that exists around us so long as we take a look.
But I still have to give credit to someone very important. Over the summer when this whole thing was just an idea, I had assumed my mom wouldn’t go for it since I would be taking a year off of school – surprisingly she turned out to be my biggest supporter. When we were getting my outdoor gear at REI, I asked her, “Why are you helping me so much?” she said, “I want you to do this. I wish that I could do it.” Even though my mother has overcome a lot in her life, she has not yet been able to overcome her fear of traveling due to past traumas with my father. That statement was what made this journey that much more important to me, that I could do this not just for myself, but her as well. I could not have made my dream a reality without my family and friends kindness and support, and willingness to take me under their wing. I thank God that I have such incredible people in my life who care, because not everyone can have a mom like Tina White, an aunt and uncle willing to take you under their roof 2000 miles away from home, a grandpa who always makes sure you have enough for groceries, friends who will answer the phone at any time of day, or a boss willing to let you crash at their place for a month. Thank you for helping me to better myself and for being apart of my adventure.
Comments