Timing is everything

Damn, I needed that. With a few interesting exceptions, my vacation was simply magical. Lots of driving gorgeous winding roads, time to stare off into space and think, time to write, and lots of time to walk, hike, and bike in the woods. Perfect. I rolled back into town all blissed out, giggling about how fascinating timing worked out for the whole trip – an available beach cabin last minute, camping spots, catching the ferry just right. Even though the sailing on the Lady Washington was cancelled, I drove down the coast with the windows down and the music turned up and singing along.

Biking and hiking are excellent, immediate treatment for panic attacks and hyperactivity. Sometimes I just have to run that energy out. This was like a therapeutic, mobile spa and holistic treatment vacation, but fun as hell. I fasted a little, ate mostly super healthy, and drank lot of water – until I was too scared to leave my tent in the middle of the night so I had to violate my nalgene water bottle. Why yes, I did also have a night light in my tent – don’t judge.

One of the places I camped borders on 20+ miles of hiking and biking trails – I love those biking trails so much that I sometimes dream about them. The prehistoric looking forest of tall trees, and intense green ferns and undergrowth. Plus this time of year there’s giant pink azaleas (or rhodies? Always get them confused) popping out of the forest in bursts of color. So gorgeous. After rolling onto the island I couldn’t even make it to morning coffee without feeling the pull – I flipped a u-turn and went for a quick ride just to take the edge off. I quickly felt new, pretty intense love for my tank of a new bike. The bigger rims and fresh shocks rolled right over everything. It was orgasmic to bounce over bigger roots and rocks no problem. I didn’t push too hard since I was out in the woods by myself with no one knowing where I was, but I did try some new trails and went a little faster – because why not try to rock at it even a teeny tiny bit?

It wasn’t until hours later that I had a what I will call a history-related panic attack – it woke me up, hit hard. I wasn’t able to sleep much all night, couldn’t eat much the next day, battling the flood of feeling like a failure that should just die, and why was I there in a place with so many bad memories – wtf? I fought it off, but still felt too vulnerable to go off the island via the suicide bridge. I wasn’t expecting the intensity of the feelings, it made me super sad all over again. What made it worse was realizing that the pilots would probably mock knowing that I was bolting off the island in tears yet again – that crazy bitch. Yeah. Then when I smoked a joint on my favorite beach – just on principle – airplanes flew over me and I called it a win, like the universe was rebalancing the energy. Sometimes the tiny moments are all we get. I will focus on how amazing it was to have so many of those moments in one week. #gratitude

Airplanes – Gary Allen
Back On Holiday – Robbie Nevil
Hurricane – Luke Combs


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