Today I went to the snow to work on that spark I felt on my previous trip, and talked about in a previous post. I’m pleased to report that the spark ignited a flame. It’s not quite a wildfire or even a bonfire, but it is something and it’s burning.
The boots no longer felt like they were trying to injure me, my toes didn’t feel like breaking against the frozen ground, and my bad knee and body held strong. I flew down the run and I wasn’t working for it, or over thinking it. The mountain, the snow, and I, we were one.
Newton’s Third Law
While everything seemed to be on its way to how it was, I couldn’t help but acknowledge I am different. I carry a hell of a lot more battle scars than when I was at the snow two years ago. My heart is heavier now, my mind struggles from exhaustion, I’m tired because I’m still chasing sleep. My anxiety has me feeling like I’m constantly in the middle of running a sprint, and I’m tired because I’m fighting to keep strong and move forward.
While I was having a really good time riding with my friends and connecting with the mountain, I enjoyed moments of bliss and forgot all my troubles. This is where Newton’s Third Law of Physics comes in.
If you are unfamiliar with Newton’s shithouse Third Law it’s this: For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. I hate Newton’s Third Law.
So after the flying high, came the drop.
It has me feeling like I am not strong enough to get back up. It has me afraid of getting on that snowboard again. I question what will happen if I fan that flame into a blaze, how far will I fall then? Will I survive it? Is riding really worth it?
While Sleep is for the Lucky, I am still Lucky in other ways
Assuming a certain adverse outcome (however likely in your mind) and letting that break you or dictate how you act or feel is something I used to do a lot. It is something I am still prone to. I mean, I am questioning if snowboarding is worth it because I usually fall into a depressive state for a few days after (or I fall into prolonged depression - like I did in 2014).
I have learnt that this is not a way to live. This is not a way I want to live.
I want to risk the pain chasing the high. I want to risk feeling lonely to discover the world on solo trips. I want to risk heartache chasing love.
And while I am still afraid of the fall, I have some of the world’s best friend and family ready to catch me.
My friends and family have been dealing and helping me with my mental health for years now. They didn’t always understand it, but through the years our conversations have become more open and honest.
I know it’s not easy being close with someone who suffers from this disease, and I am still waiting for the day that they say they can’t keep it up, the day I find out I’ve burnt through their stockpile of compassion and understanding. But as far as I can tell, they haven’t wavered, even when I push them away.
So all I really want to say is, while I’m happy I’m reconnecting with a former passion of mine, I am immeasurably grateful for the friends I've stumbled across in my life, and my family who had no choice in the matter, and I wish everyone could have people as caring and loving as mine.