Demons and Crevasses
Crevasses; they are deep, dark and damp. The world’s biggest peaks are also riddled
with them. It is impossible to climb any
of these peaks without encountering these perilous abysses. Any climber knows that you risk falling in
one any time you step foot on a mountain.
Preventing a fall is, of course, the best strategy given the unfavorable
consequences that often come with falling into one of these dangerous chasms. Because coming upon them while climbing these
mountains is inevitable, climbers practice traveling in glaciated terrain and
work on developing their route finding skills as a way of lessoning the chances
of falling into these treacherous breaches.
While it’s ideal to avoid falling into one of these cold and confining fissures
in the first place, it isn’t always possible despite the most extensive
preparation, knowledge and experience.
That’s why climbers also train for the worst possible scenario, coming
to the aid of a fellow climber who’s fallen into one, as a standard part of
their climbing education. Whenever
possible, the fallen climber will attempt to extricate themselves from the
crevasse. This is done using typical
climbing practices such as prussiking up the rope or using mechanical ascenders
to make their way up the rope.
Self-rescue isn’t always possible in the event the fallen climber is
injured and/or has lost certain equipment.
In this case, the fallen climber’s rope team members come to the aid of
their fellow climber. There are several
methods of crevasse rescue depending upon the situation.
When the unimaginable happens and a fallen climber is
gravely injured, her life almost always depends on the other climbers on her
team and their ability to safely carry out a crevasse rescue. The fallen climber’s chances of survival
without their help are seldom very good.
Life, like climbing, is full of crevasses. And when it comes to falling in one of life’s
crevasses, sometimes you don’t have a choice, especially if you are at the
mercy of someone else. Nothing can
prepare you for being ‘pushed’ into a crevasse.
And if that isn’t terrifying enough, not having anyone to help you out
of that crevasse when you are seriously hurt is indescribable. I’ve been very fortunate in that I have never
fallen into an actual crevasse. I can’t
say the same about my life off the mountain though. From my first, and most horrific and
traumatic, fall starting with the abuse at the age of five, to the most serious
since my triumph on Kilimanjaro, I have spent more of my life living in the
depths of these trenches than actually healing or living.
It was easy, maybe a little too easy at first, to think that
life after Kilimanjaro would be crevasse-free.
I’m not sure I really thought or expected it would be crevasse-free but
perhaps that the worst of the crevasses I’d faced in the last 37 years were
behind me. After all, I’d seen myself as
a survivor for the first time in my life.
If I were now a survivor, how could be any worse? And over the next year, as I processed all
that happened, my life was pretty much crevasse free. I was beginning to realized my experience in
Africa, especially summit day, was more than just flipping a light switch on
and becoming a survivor overnight.
Not a day goes by right now that I don’t feel like I’m
looking up from deep within a seemingly bottomless crevasse. Some days are worse than others but there is
never really a ‘good’ day right now.
I’ve spent most of the last year and a half in here. It’s not the first crevasse I’ve found myself
in and won’t be my last, especially if I choose to keep climbing, both
literally and figuratively. And on my
‘better’ days, I have no intention of giving up climbing, or living. But right now, the fear of what awaits me
outside this crevasse seems to have a tighter grip on me than anything else. I’m stuck in a world I don’t really want to
stay stuck in but one that, strangely enough, feels safer than the world
outside this bottomless pit. Why would
anyone ever want to fall in one of these lonely and menacing rifts, much less
stay stuck in one if they did fall? I
would when it comes to facing certain demons.
I’d like to think that a lifetime of crevasse falls would’ve prepared me
for this one. There was a time not too
long ago, not long ago at all, that I believed all the crevasses I’ve fallen in
and the person I was in those crevasses had prepared me for this mountain, this
crevasse. But this time, this mountain
and this crevasse, are different. There
are demons waiting for me outside this crevasse unlike any I’ve ever seen or
faced before. Demons I know that are out
there, that won’t go away until I face them and that can and will destroy me if
I let them. Am I finally ready to face
them? Am I strong enough to face them?
I couldn’t face them before because no one was there to help
me out of the crevasse Bruce and his abuse threw me in and I couldn’t do it
alone. The truth is I was alone and
helpless in a place no child should have to find themselves in, let alone on
their own. Those are the worst
demons. The kind of crevasse I found
myself in after the abuse was the kind no one should have to face in the first
place. I was a kid, I was only
five. I didn’t choose to be anywhere
near the crevasse he pushed me in. After
all, a mountain riddled with threatening crevasses is no place for an innocent
child. For me, there was nothing more
traumatic than the five year fall into that jagged and icy pit. That fall, that abuse, broke me in body,
mind, heart and soul and battered me so bad it’s a miracle I survived.
For better or worse, I did survive. The horror didn’t end there though. In the 27 years since, I’ve survived many
more of those falls but have yet to heal the wounds, have yet to heal my
battered body, mind, heart and soul.
I’ve tried and one thing I do know is I have never given up. Which is probably why I’ve ended up in so
many of these icy abysses. I kept
putting one foot in front of the other, kept climbing, no matter how many I
fell in. Seeing myself as a survivor for
the first time on Father’s Day has brought me back to a mountain, a crevasse,
that I escaped from long ago. Yet
escaping is different than facing your demons, surviving is different than
healing. Back then escaping and
surviving was the only thing I could do.
With no one there to protect me, to see or hear me, I got as far away
from that mountain and those demons as I could.
But healing, truly healing, means coming out of that crevasse once and
for all and facing demons I couldn’t face before. It means looking at and healing wounds I
couldn’t look at or heal before. That
doesn’t mean there won’t be others, other crevasses, demons and wounds, but the
demons and wounds that live in the depths and shadows of this crevasse thrive
there. And as long as I stay here they
will live on in me.
So why would I spend another minute here? Because I know the demons in here. I know what they look like, how they work and
how to fight them. I’ve fought them my
whole life. The cold, the dark, the
isolation, the loneliness, shame, guilt desperation are demons I’ve known and
lived with my whole life. Feeling
unworthy, unlovable, incapable and undeserving are ghosts I know as well as any
mountain I’ve climbed. As long as I stay
in this crevasse, I can hide in the icy depths and dark shadows. The part of me that wants to heal, live, love
and thrive can be invisible down here.
Down here, ten year-old Sarah can stay in that sleeping bag. Down here, teenage Sarah doesn’t have to
mourn the loss of another 7 years of her life.
Down here, adult Sarah can be self-destructive, self-harming and tell
everyone and everything that failed and hurt her to fuck off. To be continued…
No comments:
Post a Comment