You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here: Time to go // An Apology to my friends

First off: an apology for being distant the past few months, it hasn't been intentional-- I retreated to a very dark place and have not been very present in life. I apologize if I never returned a phone call or message, did not check in, offered to help with something only to not follow through, or failed you in some other way. Times have been bleak. 

The past eighteen months have been riddled with tough events and at some point, I lost my ability to be a functional person. The end of a serious relationship; a bad car accident; a death in the family; working an extremely stressful and demanding job in a negative and unhealthy work environment; the death of a beloved pet; the near-death experience with another beloved pet; finding the courage to walk away from the stressful and demanding job; tenants who trashed my house, stole my possessions, and quit their lease agreement while I was out of the country; and a completely soul-crushing attempt to go back to college after five years away, 

I broke as a person. Daily panic attacks that would last one to three hours and occur multiple times a day, inability to sleep, inability to focus and remember important things like when is the water bill due, painful gastrointestinal issues that required management, and a loss of confidence in myself.

My climbing suffered as well. No longer could I push myself trying to lead 10s and 11s, instead, I would bail on 9s. I nearly turned around on Dog Mountain less than halfway through the mellow hike. I made three unsuccessful attempts up Mt Hood, each time turning around because my nerves were fried-- the last attempt was so bad that I stood my climbing partner up and bailed on a perfect weather window, I couldn't even will myself to make it to the parking lot. 

The thought of staying in Portland, getting another job, trying another go at school, just pushing through everything and making it work somehow only creates anxiety and feelings of doom.

I love this city, but it's time to go.

...

I grew up with a very traditional and linear view of life. I experienced crisis when I realized that I will never fit the West Texas narrative for what a woman is supposed to do. Negotiating feelings of failing that narrative and trying to figure out what's next has been difficult. Everyone expects a plan. We talk about other people's lives with judgement and negativity when their choices differ from what we consider "the right thing to do". I've been afraid to share my dreams and aspirations because they involve art and hiking up giant snowy hills. 

It is socially acceptable to talk about people who create art like they are worthless and deserve every misfortune that falls upon them. "Oh, Johnny is a bartender now at another restaurant and still drive that crappy van? It's so disappointing that he's never done anything with his life, but what do you expect from a literature major?" How many times have you heard some version of that conversation?

The more I thought about staying the course and making things work somehow in Portland, the more I knew I had to go. We had a good run and now it's time to move on.

I planned a departure date for shortly after a WFR class and began looking at the map. Originally, I was looking more for sport climbing crags. But a trip focused exclusively on rock climbing posed challenges: mainly that because I was bringing Ollie along. Dogs at the crag are more of a liability than an asset, finding partners to deal with a dog would be more difficult, and with her, multipitch would be impossible.

So I looked at the map, marked where I had a few great friends to visit, connected the dots and figured I could do some backpacking along the way. The highway had me going surprisingly close to many state highpoints! Surprise! Some google research reviled that many of these peaks are within my ability (and Ollie's too) so an idea formed. I was going to try and hit these highpoints along the way, do some painting, and see some friends.

While working with some guys in a crevasse rescue clinic and talking to them about this trip, one of them called it a sabbatical and the name stuck. I like thinking of this as a sabbatical with the hope I will come back refreshed, happy, and maybe with some pride in myself.

So here's the plan for #Sabbatical2016: Get out of Portland, climb Mt Hood,  drive south through California, visit family in Bakersfield, try for Mt Whitney, drive east through Arizona, attempt Humphreys Peak, visit the Painted Desert, visit my friend Maggie in Albuquerque, attempt Wheeler Peak, drive north into Colorado, attempt Mt Elbert and any other 14rs in fair condition, climb with Ben and friends in the Flat Irons, visit Denver and Boulder, drive north to Wyoming, climb with Amber in Laramie, flail in the offwidth cracks of Vedawoo, hike Table Mountain with Ollie and stare at Grand Teton, attempt Kings Peak in Utah, pass though Salt Lake City and hopefully climb something with Gabe, drive north to attempt Borah Peak, climb all the granite in City of Rocks and Castle Rocks, drive west into Oregon by way of the Wallowas for some more backpacking, and finally return to Portland. I'm going to make a painting for each state I pass through- if the highpoint is unsafe to attempt while I am in the state, I'll find some other fun and appropriate challenge. The goal is to have as much fun as possible and come out of this with a happy dog, sore body, confidence in myself, and some decent art to show for it.

TIME TO GO!