Syrup

Upper Goose Pond —> Williamstown

Beetle and I hiked to Upper Goose Pond cabin and met Cory there to start the 50 mile attempt the next day. Cory told us we should stay there because they had free pancakes for hikers in the morning. We got there early and swam in the pond. It was a magical afternoon swimming with Cory and playing with the dogs. When he was in a good mood, he made me laugh and smile. I always wanted to show off to him so he would be proud of me and love me and he did. He was in awe of me and he told me how special I was to him all the time. His words were like the sweetest syrup that I can still taste when I think about him. Syrup is sticky though, and hard to get off. If you have too much, it makes your teeth rot.

Psychological abuse runs deep. It literally changes the physiology of your brain. To this day, three years later, despite everything he did to me and put me through, I miss him sometimes. Nora Samaran writes,

“Psychological harm is physical harm. Abuse shapes the BRAIN literally. Psychological violence is, in fact, physical violence. The logical switchbacks, emotional manipulation, moves to control the terms of discussion, utter lack of consistency or emotional accountability, and multiple competing realities that we are witnessing: these behaviors create trauma and dissociation in vulnerable people who are subject to them, especially when in the context of a gendered or other significant power imbalance. These behaviours, when they occur under circumstances of structural power imbalance and its attendant physiological vulnerability, can cause physical harm in the brains of survivors. One needs multiple minds to hold the multiple realities that emerge from this gaslighting behaviour in a near-continual stream.”

The next morning Beetle and I set out to do a 50 mile day. We got our pancakes, gave Cory our stuff, then hiked out. Beetle wanted to jog and finish sooner than later. We had clear weather and easy terrain until Mt.Greylock, which we would hit towards the end of the 50 miles and we wanted to be down Greylock near the Vermont border before the sun set.

I told Beetle to run ahead and I’d catch him. As soon as he was out of earshot I stopped walking and started crying. I put my hands on my knees and bent over convulsing with tears. There was nothing in particular I was sad about, it was just an eruption of many repressed feelings. I heard voices from behind me and I didn't want to be seen so I started running up ahead crying. I ran and stopped, ran and stopped for about four miles before I realized I wasn’t going to make it.

I called Cory and told him I couldn’t do it. He didn’t understand why and neither did I but my tank was empty. I had nothing left to give. He said it would be very difficult to get to the dirt road crossing I was at so I walked another two miles to a paved road crossing. No pack, it took me an hour to walk those two flat miles. I wanted to fall into a hole and die before I got there. I was so ashamed of my failure and Cory didn’t understand, which made me feel worse.

I was starving but I couldn’t eat anything because of the feelings. I spent the rest of the day driving to Williamstown with Cory to meet Beetle with his stuff when he finished the challenge which he did, by 7PM before the sun set. He took his pack and decided to hike the extra miles into Vermont. I watched my friend walk over the bridge out of Williamstown, illuminated by the orange seven o’clock sunlight and disappear over a hill. I had lost him too.

Cory and I got a hotel room in Williamstown that night.