A Perfect Storm

A PERFECT STORM

I cannot do this.

I walk on, my footsteps filling those of my best friend Maddie, but each time I raise a leg to move forward, the snowshoes become exponentially heavier. And maybe it’s my imagination, or lack of nutrition, but are the trees closing in? I mean, their branches are weighed heavily by snow and do touch the ground, so maybe they really are impeding our path? Is there even still a path? Doubting myself, I blink a few times and rub my eyes. Maybe my mind is playing tricks and I really am losing touch with reality. Maybe my heart wasn’t the only thing that no longer was able to function normally. I didn’t know anymore. All I knew was with each step I took; it was using a reserve of energy that no longer existed.   

I stop to hoist my jeans up, annoyed at how loose they are.

This past year, I, Alex Kathleen, had lost forty pounds. I hadn’t meant to, it just sort of happened after I contracted a third world bacterial infection, which ravaged my colon. Before long, it didn’t take a genius to realize, it was the perfect cover for my other disease, Anorexia Nervosa.

Between the two, I was hanging on by a thread. Then, life decided I wasn’t nearly enough overwhelmed, and threw me the ultimate curve, two days before Thanksgiving, with my longtime boyfriend, dumping me. I hadn’t seen it coming really. Months earlier, I knew we’d hit a bit of a rough patch, our conversations growing more distant, his interest waning. But in my defense, how could I have continued to put him first, our relationship first, when I was in the throes of despair myself? For five years, I’d put his needs above mine, his happiness before mine, because I thought that gave me purpose and honestly, it had to be that way; one way…his way. But these past months, I’d grown so self-absorbed with my health taking center stage, his sadly, had faded into the background.

Consequently, and if I may add tragically, our relationship had lost its main attraction status. I didn’t know it at the time, but similar to Shakespeareans’ play, it was the beginning of our Final Act.

Honestly, I thought our friendship and connection strong enough to navigate the tumultuous turn my life had taken, that we’d come through, bigger, better, and stronger on the other side. But in the end, all that’d come through, was one extraordinarily regular and slim girl, now bearing the scars of where her heart had been ripped out.

I am not overstating when I say, the pain was excruciating.

As I now bumble through the Montana wilderness, I recite the very last sentence he had written. Yes peeps, written. This couldn’t possibly have been spoken directly because ultimately, in those closing days, he was weak-minded, selfish, and cruel. In other words, a coward. One I never thought in a million years, would take the easy way out. One that couldn’t even manage a final farewell the right way. In fact, he’d labeled us and our long-time relationship an illusion, a freaking illusion! I can never give you the love and respect you deserve. At all. It’s not real. These parting words on endless loop, God. The pain they’d inflicted was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. Death may have been easier. Maybe I really was dying, from the inside out or outside in? I no longer can differentiate. The only thing I knew was I no longer had a place in the world. He had been my constant these years, my closest friend whom I saw or spoke to every day, the one I went to, for anything, all my needs.

For me, he had represented home.

So, who would think, with just a few carefully typed words, sent over email no less, I’d be set adrift in an endless emotional shitstorm; a perfect storm of disease, grief, and pain. A ship cast with no anchor with no safe harbor to return to.

The truth was, he did not love me, nor ever had felt that way, but to read it…our ending…via email, was devastating. Time stopped in that moment, and I couldn’t get past it. For years, the one person I trusted, unconditionally, with my heart, out of several billion in the world, had decided to move on without me. Love, respect, connection, time, effort. Energy. So much damn energy, all of it, one big, colossal waste. And all of it, now discarded. 

I had been dismissed.

He was right. It had been an illusion. The reality was, I hadn’t meant…all that much, and I’d fooled myself into believing, that whatever he gave over the years, was not only acceptable, but more than enough. He’d successfully bamboozled a tainted bill of goods and because of it, I was now on my own and flailing spectacularly at it.

Noticing it's started snowing again, I look up to see, big fat fluffy flakes beginning to fly. Maddie, who walks several feet ahead, continues to march on at a fast and furious clip. God, I love her. Her friendship was one of my last remaining tethers to this world and without it, I’m fairly sure I would have floated away awhile back.

God. Ha ha. The jokes on me. I hadn’t given him much thought as of late. I don’t know, I always kind of figured I was on my own down here, bumbling through life like a human pinball, only acting then reacting to every situation presented, bouncing here and there, with no actual destination or control of…anything.

Well, other than my eating of course.

In truth, I’d never asked God for help, because I always thought there was someone else more worthy of receiving it. Other souls who surely were more in need of his services than myself, and I wasn’t about to take any of his time, just to help me, a regular girl who probably hadn’t earned the right to even ask in the first place.

Is today the day it all ends?

Continuing to look up into the approaching storm, the words tumble out before I can stop them. “Are you there God? I don’t think I’m gonna make it after all,” I say, pleading into swirling snow, “I am lost, please. Help me find the way…a sign…anything.”

Using mittened hands to dam the flow of ugly tears, I stumble now, more emotional than ever. It’s not every day one admits, before God, they are out of options.

I stop moving, not really believing what I’m hearing. Is that barking? I see Maddie stop and turn to, looking as puzzled as myself

…Whoosh.

A large dog slams into me then, their paws on top of my chest. There is no time to react, and I tumble backwards, my slim frame no match for this gal’s enthusiasm.

Laying horizontally now, I laugh at being caught so off-guard. Then, noticing the snowshoes still remain attached to me, they now stand stick straight out of the ground, which makes me laugh even harder. The dog, a chocolate Labrador, moves off to begin inspection. Although no longer barking, only sniffing, and licking, and by all appearances, appears extremely excited to meet me. Her tongue, warm and wet, moves across my face and just won’t stop. “Whoa girl, where did you come from, huh,” I say, looking into deep brown eyes. She stills for a second, before going back to sniffing duties.

I can only imagine what I smell like at this point.

I sit up as Maddie reaches us. “Are you ok,” she asks, looking down at my flattened frame., “I thought you said we were entirely alone up here,” I say, while wiping doggy drool off my face.

She frowns responding, “we are, I have no idea whose dog this could be. I don’t think there’s another house nearby, as in, we are miles away from the nearest neighbor. Maybe she broke away from a hiker?” Spying our newfound companion, I take notice she is a beauty and obviously cared for. Unlike mine, her brown coat shines and also unlike mine, her eyes are…happy. She proceeds to plop down between my legs where we come eye to eye. Popping a mitten off, I begin to rub behind an ear, having no reservation doing so. “Hey girl,” I coo, “where did you come from? Hmmm?” Her tail wags harder and she comes closer to nuzzle. I welcome the affection. She is warm and has eyes only for me.

Noticing she wears a collar, I lift her chin and move closer to read it,   

Angel

Not quite believing my eyes. I squint and look harder. Sure as shit, there in the middle of the dog tag, in the shape of a heart no less, is just the one scripted word. I look up at Maddie and say, “her name is Angel.”

“Well, we can’t just leave her here,” Maddie says before continuing, “but how are we going to bring her back with us? We have no leash.”

 “We won’t need a leash,” I say, “she’ll just stay with me.” How I know this, is anyone’s guess at this point, but I am adamant she will. Maddie gives a little laugh, “how can you possibly know that? What if she just takes off again?” I say simply, “she won’t,” I cannot be convinced otherwise.

With that, Maddie shrugs and comes to stand behind me. Giving a hearty, "are you ready,” she grabs under my arms and pulls me onto my feet, in one fell swoop. Now standing, I brush snow from my backside, specifically my tush, before turning attention back to our new friend. Looking down into eyes as dark as molasses I speculate aloud, “Angel, hmmm?” At hearing her name, her tail wags again.

What are the chances…

Remembering I have a bottle of water, I take it out and now offer it out to her, by way of steady stream. She laps eagerly and doesn’t stop until the bottle is emptied. So, I think, she was definitely thirsty. I frown, where could she have come from? If she had been with a hiker, wouldn’t she be trying to lead us back to them somehow?

Maddie’s worry interrupts, “we better head back,” she says, just as a sudden gust hit, then adds, “and hastily to! Who knows how log we’ll have to hunker down for!”

I don’t know, eyeing Angel and her enthusiasm for snow, something tells me our meeting wasn’t just by chance. Maybe it’s all a part of the big guy’s plan from upstairs? Now what plan that is exactly, was anyone’s guess at this point. Although, if I had to classify it, it would definitely fall under the category of Unknown, joining current life and future, already listed there.

Already several feet ahead Maddie announces, “let’s get home.”

Angel passes us, but I wasn’t worried. I knew she would remain with us, with me.

I pull my hood up along with my pants again, and just like earlier, I fall in line behind Maddie, but no longer thinking of misery with an angel now leading the way.

We walk and walk but the storm is intensifying, and I can tell Maddie is frantic to get us back safely. We try to pick up the pace, but there is only so fast one can move while wearing cumbersome snowshoes. Ice pellets intermingle now with the snow, and I pause briefly to pull the scarf all the way up to just under my eyes. Thank God Maddie insisted we add more layers. If not, our skin would now be in danger of frostbite.

Angel lets us know she is still with us, by barking every so often.

While I’ve lost line of sight of the dog, I do believe she will lead us home. How she knows where to go I haven’t any idea but talk about having blind trust and faith. Both words foreign now to me really because I no longer cared about any outcome. I frown trying to process what I am feeling or should say, not. I mean, here we are, in the middle of nowhere, in a storm of monumental proportions, and I should be feeling afraid, or at least a hint of fear, something, anything, right? But I don’t. I don’t feel much of anything. But isn’t this a good thing? Because if I were no longer capable of feeling, I would no longer be capable of despair.

But that would mean then, I no longer would be capable of living either. It all would disappear, as if I never had existed at all. 

I think of Angel. Where did she come from? She didn’t just magically appear or fall from the sky. She had to belong to someone. I try and recall now exactly where we are. I know I flew into Bozeman last night, but after sleeping on the flight from Denver, I was groggy upon arrival. I remember deplaning, then following the masses down to baggage, but with only a carry-on, I cruised right on out to curbside, where Maddie was already waiting.  

Once inside her truck, I sort of just slouched against the widow, not really looking, or caring…about anything. I never asked where we were going, where we were staying, because she had been responsible for the arrangements. And in truth, I felt even worse after arrival. All I could think was, loss and grief. After all this time, years, I had finally made it to the mountains, but now I was alone, and he no longer a part of my story.

I stop walking to pull up my pants again, realizing now the enormity of the events unfolding before me.

Where are we really…exactly? If something happened, who would ever find us?

After leaving the airport, we drove for what seemed like forever. I simply stared off into space…teetering between bottomless grief and empty space…the same as every day these past several months.

A self- imposed purgatory. I couldn’t go back to how it was, but I couldn’t move forward without him either.

Suddenly, I say aloud, “At what point did I give up caring about myself?” This was something new I had recently started…me mumbling and carrying on entire conversations all by myself. I first noticed it when I entered rehab. Some days, it’s all the company I was afforded. So, I made do with the only resource available at the time, my overactive imagination.

Ha. I really am going crazy! But isn’t that what happened when broken people lost touch with their reality? I should know, I used to walk by them every day on the way to work. They would be standing on the corner with a sign. Asking for food, pleading for help, begging to be seen. And always, always, they would be mumbling to themselves. God, will that be me in the near future?

I will have to beg to be noticed.

My legs, I can barely feel them now…or lift them, and I am so tired. And cold. I frown, trying to remember the last time I ate anything, consumed any food. Yesterday? The day prior? I mean other than the bagel bite in Denver. I guess when one doesn’t eat, one doesn’t make energy. But that was my choice and I remember feeling sublime pleasure from withholding, for willingly making myself suffer. I blamed myself for losing the best thing that ever happened to me, and now, I had to make myself suffer for it.

Somehow when I suffered, it allowed me to better understand my place in the world and gave me the excuse I needed, to never move forward. I could at least control this much. A vicious cycle indeed, that would make any psychologist froth at the mouth to review.

“We made it,” I hear Maddie shout, followed by Angel’s barking.

I’ve slowed considerably and am not feeling…the best. Using one mitten I try and shield my eyes as best I can from the biting sting of snow, but fluffy flakes have turned blizzard and it’s coming down so hard now, I can barely make out the logs of the home, despite standing in front of it.

“I think I am going to be sick again,” I say to no one then frown. How can I get sick? I’ve already thrown everything up this morning. No, I want to sleep. That was it. God…I swear, the next time I get under the covers, I am not coming back out until spring thaw.

But I can’t move. My legs are stuck. Maybe I lost a snowshoe awhile back? I smile a little, seeing Maddie ahead, but she has turned around and is coming back towards me. Why? I don’t understand. Angel has also come back to me, and I reach down to pat the pretty dog with a pretty coat, so striking in the whiteout, while mine is tired and worn out, like me.

My vision blurs, and I rub my eyes with a wet mitten, but it makes my cheeks burn, so I just let it go. I need to let it all go. Starving myself, pain, grief… regrets. I’m done. I am tired and must rest, the decision made now to not move another inch. I just cannot go on… this is my final thought as my legs buckle and I fall onto my knees.   

Angel now over me, her pink tag in the shape of a heart, swings like a pendulum in the storm. Back and forth it moves and I think, the heart that hypnotized, I’m so cold. Ice is hitting my face, so I must close my eyes… and as I do, the wind carries my whispers away...

 “Thank you, God. Thanks an awful lot.”