Four Years On

I genuinely don't remember when I started to even consider a camping trip again.

I think Jason might have mentioned it for New Year's and while the idea of being IN THE FRIGGING COLD seemed ridiculous to me, there was also an appeal to being out in nature, away from it all to bring in the New Year.  Jason had said that he would go out there for New Year's no matter what but then the November floods happened and he lost his living space and a grand majority of his stuff and livelihood and so dealing with that and the house he shares became the priority.

And then the (still pretty new) February long weekend dawned its head.  Something tipped off in me, probably around the end of January.  Maybe in conversation, maybe in just a need to get out, really out into nature.  Maybe some of the loosening of restrictions, maybe me having my booster and feeling just that little bit more safe.  Maybe me trying to figure out how to have more life in my life again after two years of very little life at all.

Camping.  Maybe I could camp?  Not around a lot of people?  Very few if any social interactions?  I could still wear a mask around people?  Hmmm....

Jason said he was going to go with his long time friend and maybe this made me a little jealous so I said well hey, if you two don't go maybe I will?  So I mentioned this to Jason and forbade him from really talking about it as that stressed me out and sent me into anxiety crap.  But he got excited.  He started to talk to me about some of the big trees and areas near the camp site and I was like LALALALALALALA STOP!  

I stressed. 

A lot.

Like weeks and weeks of it.

I stressed thinking about it.  I stressed planning and prepping.  I stressed spending money on things I thought might help to make me more comfortable in the rain and cold.  I stressed over it being February.  WHO CAMPS IN FEBRUARY?  Jesus how stupid was I to even be considering this.  

Stupid.  I was being so stupid.  

Jason I think did a reasonable job at being encouraging and supportive while giving me space and reminding me I didn't have to go.  But I felt like I did.  And I talked to my counsellor about this... this feeling of feeling trapped.  Like if I went it would be horrible and I'd hate it and be miserable and uncomfortable.  But if I stayed home, I'd be jealous of Jason going and I'd feel lame about sitting on my couch when I could be outside.  My counsellor asked me why it was I was wanting to go at all then?  I thought about it and said quietly "it really is incredibly beautiful... and I think I might like parts of it."

Well then.

But I did not say I was going.

I refused to commit.  But I tried to tell Jason to read between the lines of what I was doing as I spent more and more money on things for a camping trip in Winter.

To the best of my recollection I have only camped in full Winter once before, with Vince, ages ago.  I feel like we went in December, but I could be wrong.  He brought everything, I'm pretty sure I just brought clothes.  I was mad he'd not brought water as the camp grounds in winter generally shut off water.  I don't remember what we did about that.  We might have only gone for one night.  I don't remember, just that we went, there was no water at the site, and we shared our sleeping bag(s) which was nice.

But camping in February?  Not something I have done before.  Or really ever considered doing.  But here I was, considering it.  

One of the things I'd looked into years ago was a portable propane heater that was ok to use in a tent (with a separate carbon monoxide detector just in case) and so I spent money on one of those and told myself if it was anything as bad as last time, I'd just sit in the tent with the heater going to dry off and warm up.  

I told myself I had much better and warmer gear.  I had the fuzzy-warm pants and the amazing warm waterproof jacket and I had this heater as backup and, well, maybe I'd see?

But right up until the last minute I did not want to go.  All of my anxiety was telling me not to go while at the same time telling me how miserable I'd be if I didn't go.  Miserable at home or miserable in the cold stuck outside.  Hmmm.....