July 22 2023, Katahdin Stream Campground to Katahdin:
I started hiking at 4:30am and it started raining on me the moment I left. I didn’t mind much, though. It felt cool and the rain was much needed for the heat I was experiencing in my energy field. I still felt a little out of it and disassociated from my surroundings. It also still felt out of my comfort zone to talk to people for an extended period of time. Instead, I grieved in silence as I trekked.
I felt so alone and lost without him. I thought about the way he used to kiss me and the way he made love to me, but I knew that the connectedness he had for me when he was fucking me was the same connectedness I desired outside of the bedroom, but he couldn’t give it to me. I wanted it so bad, but had to let go of the idea that it had to be through him.
I told myself that I could teach someone to fuck me the way he did and pleasure me the same way he did.
And then thoughts would creep in saying, No one could do it like him.
They wouldn’t have the same eyes.
They wouldn’t have the same taste.
They’re not him.
How had I convinced myself so strongly that he was the best? Why was I not allowing myself to trust in something new? Something more worthy of me. Something more in alignment.
And then I would relax into trust again. Coming back to my breath. The faith I had felt like it was wavering and I knew that was where gentleness and compassion were required of me. The thoughts were only there to tempt me into believing that I didn’t deserve love and the type of connection I desired.
And I mean, realistically, Voodoo was a great teacher for me. He fucked me as much as he was able to and I still felt it was never enough. I felt so empty inside despite how many orgasms I had and how many of my fetishes/kinks were being played out. It showed me that, yes, all of that sexual stuff that occurred was still absolutely meaningless. At the end of the day, there was no true connection between us. We were only two pain bodies meeting together, never really joining at the heart.
Stepping back, I was also able to see how I put so much pressure on him for wanting him to love me a certain way. When I felt him losing appreciation for me and taking me for granted, I would try harder on the surface which just seemed to separate us further.
Now that I distanced myself, the amount of clarity that started to come up was beyond what my mind could grasp. I started looking back and recalling the memories and moments shared with him that would normally be seen as very triggering, but at the time, I felt nothing. I thought about things he apparently said or did and, at the time, I just felt numb. It was as if it didn’t hurt in the moment. I just didn’t feel anything. I didn’t even feel like I was that triggered or upset. I simply felt like he was yelling at someone who was already dead.
When he was screaming, everything would turn into a blur. My immediate surroundings would just go silent and all I would hear was ringing in my ears and a deafened sound of his voice. But now when I recalled those memories, I found I would experience an extreme jab in my heart, as if I was being emotionally stabbed with a sharp dagger.
I thought to myself, How did this not hurt before?
It was clear to me that I experienced a sense of trauma through him without realizing it in the moment. I looked back on weird things such as him not allowing me to talk to other men, but him being allowed to talk to a bunch of girls, his reasoning being that, “Men are sexual, women are not.”
I thought to myself, Is he aware of who he’s talking to?
But in the moment of him placing such limits on me, I actually began to believe that I was, indeed, limited. I was actually convinced that he was just protecting me. I felt like he knew how to trap me and he had me hooked on him, because when he did give it to me, he gave it to me so good. It would shut me up for the time being. At the time, I also felt absolutely convinced that I couldn’t leave and that I didn’t have a choice, because if I did leave, it was made to appear there would be heavy consequences.
Hiking up Katahdin by myself was exactly what I needed to feel into everything. The climb was rough, wet and cold, but there felt to be a deep rage inside of me. The intensity of my emotions was given into the grabbing of the boulders and placed into the path through my footing.
When I made it to the sign, I felt so proud of myself for finishing alone. My heart needed that experience to be entirely for me. I really didn’t care that I summited on a rainy day and that my view was covered by clouds. I was simply happy to start my journey back home into my heart.
On the way down, the clouds began to part and lift, as did my mind. The rangers and officers were waiting for me at Abol. When I showed up, one of the women immediately knew who I was and greeted me with a smile. She told me to go to the ranger station as the officer was waiting for me.
He was happy to see me and double checked to see how I was feeling. I told him I was doing alright.
“Voodoo is planning on staying at the Birches Campground for the night and summiting tomorrow,” he informed, “you just missed him.”
Apparently, I would’ve ran into him if I were to have walked back to the ranger station from which I started. It was in that moment I accepted I would no longer be seeing him and that he was officially long gone.
The officer wanted to make sure I got down the mountain safely and I told him I could call up Charlotte, the Angel who had given me a ride. He linked me up with connection so I could call her and she came right up, regardless of not having any heads up. Within an hour, she got me and I thanked all of the officers and rangers for their help. It seemed the whole area was being watched over and secretly protected for me to move through while I finished the trail safely.
When I told them I was going to hitch back south to complete some sections, they wrote down a bus schedule for me so I could also get to my destination safely. I felt they were so sweet and, in the end, I had a change of heart and actually felt really grateful that everyone got so involved and that they took so many measurements to make sure I wouldn’t run into him, all the while not letting Voodoo know about a thing.
As soon as Charlotte picked me up, I felt a deep sense of relaxation. I felt like what I went through was finally over and done with. She wanted to buy me a room for the night but also offered her own place, telling me that I could choose whatever I wanted. I didn’t feel ready to deal with the ‘where’s your boyfriend’ questions as of yet, so I decided to stay with her!
She felt so grateful that I chose to stay at her place and made sure I had all my needs met. She didn’t ask anything of me, not even of my presence. She just wanted me to be comfortable and act on what felt inspiring to me.
“Thank you for trusting me,” I said.
“As soon as I saw that purple bag flopping on your pack, the Holy Spirit told me to pick you up because you were good people,” she said.
The purple bag on my backpack happened to be a giant bag of popcorn because it didn’t fit in my bag, haha!
We sat in her living room which had no AC and no TV (my kind of comfort) and we watched out the window as a rainstorm passed by. She shared stories of how she came from a big family and how her mother had been told by Jesus that her only purpose here was to reproduce. She ended up having nine kids!
Eventually, her kids made her go to a priest because she was still stubbornly convinced she needed to have kids even though her uterus was rotting. The priest told her what she was doing was suicide and that was what got her to stop. It was funny because her mother found no joy in having kids, it was strictly to reproduce.
After I showered and did laundry, Charlotte took me out to her local restaurant and we talked about God all day. I felt so uplifted in her presence. I wasn’t used to such gentleness and reassurance and feeling so taken care of emotionally. She said I could stay with her forever if I would decide.
She told me I was there bravest person she ever met, especially because she was one who was scared to venture out of her own area. But it wasn’t even that, it was more-so the lessons I was given and how I came out of them with such strength and clarity. I had people telling me that my entire life, that I was so strong and brave, but then I witnessed myself crying so much and wondered to myself how could that be?
Before going to bed, I called CTM and she cried when she heard my voice which in turn made me cry. She was so happy I was alive but also upset with my stubbornness to finish the trail. She said I sounded happy again and as if I had aliveness in my voice again.
“When Mo and I had talked to you over the phone, you sounded like a different person,” she said, “it was as if you weren’t really there and no matter what we were saying to you, it wasn’t getting through. You were unreachable.”
I told her I had a difficult time feeling emotions. It was as if I was putting up a field of protection, such like a wall, to combat his words and the kind of energy he was throwing at me.
CTM kept saying, “I really need you to know and understand that it’s not your fault.”
I closed my eyes and she repeated, “It’s not your fault.”
But he was so good at convincing me that it was. She reminded me how the devil always came in a disguise. For Voodoo, he was a charmer and an entertainer. In the beginning, he was so adamant about wanting to know everything about me—my story, my hardships, the things that felt vulnerable to me. And I felt after a while I could let my guard down and confide in him, not thinking he would ever use those things against me.
I started hiking at 4:30am and it started raining on me the moment I left. I didn’t mind much, though. It felt cool and the rain was much needed for the heat I was experiencing in my energy field. I still felt a little out of it and disassociated from my surroundings. It also still felt out of my comfort zone to talk to people for an extended period of time. Instead, I grieved in silence as I trekked.
I felt so alone and lost without him. I thought about the way he used to kiss me and the way he made love to me, but I knew that the connectedness he had for me when he was fucking me was the same connectedness I desired outside of the bedroom, but he couldn’t give it to me. I wanted it so bad, but had to let go of the idea that it had to be through him.
I told myself that I could teach someone to fuck me the way he did and pleasure me the same way he did.
And then thoughts would creep in saying, No one could do it like him.
They wouldn’t have the same eyes.
They wouldn’t have the same taste.
They’re not him.
How had I convinced myself so strongly that he was the best? Why was I not allowing myself to trust in something new? Something more worthy of me. Something more in alignment.
And then I would relax into trust again. Coming back to my breath. The faith I had felt like it was wavering and I knew that was where gentleness and compassion were required of me. The thoughts were only there to tempt me into believing that I didn’t deserve love and the type of connection I desired.
And I mean, realistically, Voodoo was a great teacher for me. He fucked me as much as he was able to and I still felt it was never enough. I felt so empty inside despite how many orgasms I had and how many of my fetishes/kinks were being played out. It showed me that, yes, all of that sexual stuff that occurred was still absolutely meaningless. At the end of the day, there was no true connection between us. We were only two pain bodies meeting together, never really joining at the heart.
Stepping back, I was also able to see how I put so much pressure on him for wanting him to love me a certain way. When I felt him losing appreciation for me and taking me for granted, I would try harder on the surface which just seemed to separate us further.
Now that I distanced myself, the amount of clarity that started to come up was beyond what my mind could grasp. I started looking back and recalling the memories and moments shared with him that would normally be seen as very triggering, but at the time, I felt nothing. I thought about things he apparently said or did and, at the time, I just felt numb. It was as if it didn’t hurt in the moment. I just didn’t feel anything. I didn’t even feel like I was that triggered or upset. I simply felt like he was yelling at someone who was already dead.
When he was screaming, everything would turn into a blur. My immediate surroundings would just go silent and all I would hear was ringing in my ears and a deafened sound of his voice. But now when I recalled those memories, I found I would experience an extreme jab in my heart, as if I was being emotionally stabbed with a sharp dagger.
I thought to myself, How did this not hurt before?
It was clear to me that I experienced a sense of trauma through him without realizing it in the moment. I looked back on weird things such as him not allowing me to talk to other men, but him being allowed to talk to a bunch of girls, his reasoning being that, “Men are sexual, women are not.”
I thought to myself, Is he aware of who he’s talking to?
But in the moment of him placing such limits on me, I actually began to believe that I was, indeed, limited. I was actually convinced that he was just protecting me. I felt like he knew how to trap me and he had me hooked on him, because when he did give it to me, he gave it to me so good. It would shut me up for the time being. At the time, I also felt absolutely convinced that I couldn’t leave and that I didn’t have a choice, because if I did leave, it was made to appear there would be heavy consequences.
Hiking up Katahdin by myself was exactly what I needed to feel into everything. The climb was rough, wet and cold, but there felt to be a deep rage inside of me. The intensity of my emotions was given into the grabbing of the boulders and placed into the path through my footing.
When I made it to the sign, I felt so proud of myself for finishing alone. My heart needed that experience to be entirely for me. I really didn’t care that I summited on a rainy day and that my view was covered by clouds. I was simply happy to start my journey back home into my heart.
On the way down, the clouds began to part and lift, as did my mind. The rangers and officers were waiting for me at Abol. When I showed up, one of the women immediately knew who I was and greeted me with a smile. She told me to go to the ranger station as the officer was waiting for me.
He was happy to see me and double checked to see how I was feeling. I told him I was doing alright.
“Voodoo is planning on staying at the Birches Campground for the night and summiting tomorrow,” he informed, “you just missed him.”
Apparently, I would’ve ran into him if I were to have walked back to the ranger station from which I started. It was in that moment I accepted I would no longer be seeing him and that he was officially long gone.
The officer wanted to make sure I got down the mountain safely and I told him I could call up Charlotte, the Angel who had given me a ride. He linked me up with connection so I could call her and she came right up, regardless of not having any heads up. Within an hour, she got me and I thanked all of the officers and rangers for their help. It seemed the whole area was being watched over and secretly protected for me to move through while I finished the trail safely.
When I told them I was going to hitch back south to complete some sections, they wrote down a bus schedule for me so I could also get to my destination safely. I felt they were so sweet and, in the end, I had a change of heart and actually felt really grateful that everyone got so involved and that they took so many measurements to make sure I wouldn’t run into him, all the while not letting Voodoo know about a thing.
As soon as Charlotte picked me up, I felt a deep sense of relaxation. I felt like what I went through was finally over and done with. She wanted to buy me a room for the night but also offered her own place, telling me that I could choose whatever I wanted. I didn’t feel ready to deal with the ‘where’s your boyfriend’ questions as of yet, so I decided to stay with her!
She felt so grateful that I chose to stay at her place and made sure I had all my needs met. She didn’t ask anything of me, not even of my presence. She just wanted me to be comfortable and act on what felt inspiring to me.
“Thank you for trusting me,” I said.
“As soon as I saw that purple bag flopping on your pack, the Holy Spirit told me to pick you up because you were good people,” she said.
The purple bag on my backpack happened to be a giant bag of popcorn because it didn’t fit in my bag, haha!
We sat in her living room which had no AC and no TV (my kind of comfort) and we watched out the window as a rainstorm passed by. She shared stories of how she came from a big family and how her mother had been told by Jesus that her only purpose here was to reproduce. She ended up having nine kids!
Eventually, her kids made her go to a priest because she was still stubbornly convinced she needed to have kids even though her uterus was rotting. The priest told her what she was doing was suicide and that was what got her to stop. It was funny because her mother found no joy in having kids, it was strictly to reproduce.
After I showered and did laundry, Charlotte took me out to her local restaurant and we talked about God all day. I felt so uplifted in her presence. I wasn’t used to such gentleness and reassurance and feeling so taken care of emotionally. She said I could stay with her forever if I would decide.
She told me I was there bravest person she ever met, especially because she was one who was scared to venture out of her own area. But it wasn’t even that, it was more-so the lessons I was given and how I came out of them with such strength and clarity. I had people telling me that my entire life, that I was so strong and brave, but then I witnessed myself crying so much and wondered to myself how could that be?
Before going to bed, I called CTM and she cried when she heard my voice which in turn made me cry. She was so happy I was alive but also upset with my stubbornness to finish the trail. She said I sounded happy again and as if I had aliveness in my voice again.
“When Mo and I had talked to you over the phone, you sounded like a different person,” she said, “it was as if you weren’t really there and no matter what we were saying to you, it wasn’t getting through. You were unreachable.”
I told her I had a difficult time feeling emotions. It was as if I was putting up a field of protection, such like a wall, to combat his words and the kind of energy he was throwing at me.
CTM kept saying, “I really need you to know and understand that it’s not your fault.”
I closed my eyes and she repeated, “It’s not your fault.”
But he was so good at convincing me that it was. She reminded me how the devil always came in a disguise. For Voodoo, he was a charmer and an entertainer. In the beginning, he was so adamant about wanting to know everything about me—my story, my hardships, the things that felt vulnerable to me. And I felt after a while I could let my guard down and confide in him, not thinking he would ever use those things against me.
