In general, I consider myself a "shutter-downer" emotionally. When I start to feel a lot of feelings or things are getting particularly intense, an emotional shut-off valve kicks in and I just go about my day. (This is true in most relationships except in the case of my sister at whom I will enthusiastically yell). If things are busy, all to the better- don't even have to work that hard to ignore the valve. Over the years, I have worked to notice when this is happening, manually open the valve, sort through the feelings stuffed in there, and express them, if necessary. As we've climbed through the branches of this decision tree to leave the trail, I've acknowledged that I'm disappointed and sad and "this sucks," but I still felt somewhat able to ignore the full weight of the feelings because we were still on the road- sightseeing and planning travel. An uncharacteristic lashing-out moment on the car ride home, blew the top off the valve resulting in a bum-out ride home.
But please, indulge me in avoiding just a little bit longer....Washington D.C. was fun! Seth and I did some of the typical things you do in our nation's capitol: monuments, museums, and most American of them all- McDonald's.
Washington Monument. It was a very warm, steamy day. Apparently, there was a heat wave rolling in. It was noticeable.
Basically ,we're looking at the Washington Monument now and took a picture going the other way. The National WWII Memorial is right behind us with the Lincoln Memorial off in the distance. The WWII Memorial was new to me and I thought it was very well done.
In the middle of WWII Memorial. So sunny. See us walking closer and closer to Lincoln Memorial. So sunny.
We made it!
Seth's favorite picture from the day.
Taken inside the Lincoln Memorial with view of Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool and Washington Monument.
Swung by the White House. There wasn't as much security around the White House in the 90s. This is also a picture of me getting very burnt- you can't see it yet, but it's happening.
We refueled at the McDonald's in the National Air and Space Museum. The fries were great but the Coke was flat. Seth and I were already hobbling a bit by the time we made it here, so we knew our feet and knees could only hold out a bit longer.
Seth is sure that the scientists who built this suit were making a joke by clearly referencing cylons in Battlestar Galactica.
The happiest boy on earth. Seth loves space.
Seth agreed that the museum was impressive- like I had been telling him! But this one was an easy sell, really.
I wanted Seth to see Washington D.C. because I thought he'd really like the sights and I also wanted to visit my friend, Georgie, from graduate school. She and I hadn't spoken much since graduation, but we had the kind of relationship where reconnecting was easy. Seth, Georgie, Georgie's partner, Hayden, and I had dinner a few times and they were helpful in reflecting on the course of this journey. Georgie works as a therapist and Hayden is very attune and brilliant, so I think they sensed I needed to hear, "this is the journey" because they kept saying it. Like in different ways over and over. They kept reminding me that I'm still on the path even if it's not the actual path of the Appalachian Trail. At times, that sentiment washes over me with relief and hope. At other times, I'm annoyed and wish the speaker of this zen truism would shut his/her stupid mouth. But really, I needed to hear it and also their support was warm and comforting.
It just happened that we were visiting during the week that Georgie was taking time off work, so the timing of the visit felt very fortuitous and I want to believe it's a sign from the universe that we were supposed to be there. A part of me really believes that and another part of me berates myself for wanting to believe that. So I suppose even though we're off-trail, I'm continuing to have to negotiate unique situations. I am having to manage an emergence of insecurity and neuroses, an activation of fear and defenses. I've actually gotten good at managing these periods when they're somewhat familiar- like starting a new job or getting to know new people. However, I've come to realize I affirm myself during those periods with the knowledge that the discomfort passes soon. At the moment, it feels like I have a gaping expanse of time ahead of me where I'm just supposed to wander. I'm cool with going with the flow for a little bit- like when I roughly know when I'll end up back on shore.
Seth had sold his truck before we got on the trail, so he's been looking for new cars ever since. The car market in D.C. ended up being pretty good, so instead of getting a rental, Seth bought this car to drive back to Atlanta.
When I got all of this going on inside of me, a car ride is just the worst. So much sitting with myself, which brings me to the car ride melt down. Within an hour or two of leaving D.C., we were driving through Shenandoah National Park, which is a major section of the Appalachian Trail. When we got back on the trail in southern Massachusetts, getting though Shenandoah, at least, had become a hopeful goal of mine. It's beautiful even from the car. As we drove through it, I started to cry. But I was wearing sunglasses and I still didn't want to deal with feelings, so I did a few combinations of the swipe-the-tear-away-before-it-falls-below-the-rim-of-your-sunglasses move and eye-rubs. New and old grief started to flood in. We were leaving the trail behind and we hadn't done any of the sections I was excited about. Prior to the trail, I was excited about the Whites and the Smokies. Then, Shenandoah became a focus. Now, none of it was going to happen. Heading back to Atlanta was the ultimate signal of the end. Also, I started to feel some of the feelings I felt when I first left Houston like loss and lost.
I managed to effectively stuff all those feelings back down with the help of cheesy corn puffs from Trader Joe's. Later, however, Seth and I were discussing plans for the upcoming week, which included plans to dog-sit for my sister in Nashville. Seth proposed that he stay in Atlanta for a few days for a friend's birthday while I go to Nashville to dog-sit and spend time with my family and he would join me later in the week. In that moment, I heard, "I'd rather go do this fun thing without you," so I spat back, "Well, maybe I should just go hike the Appalachian Trail by myself." Maybe doesn't set off the richter scale as far as lashing out goes, but I definitely don't bite at people's soft spots much these days. It was harsh and Seth and I were both somewhat surprised by my jarring retort. After I said it, I thought to myself, "Well, clearly I'm angry." And because anger is wired weirdly for me, I started crying. Feeling anger is really unpleasant for me and in this situation there isn't anything or anyone to comfortably focus my anger on. I examined whether I was angry with Seth, but there isn't any satisfaction in being angry at an injured person who feels shitty about the whole situation too. All that leaves is being angry at fate, which has a diffuse and equally unsatisfying quality about it.
After that, I was swimming in emotions. I felt guilty about my desire to want to continue the trail without Seth. I mean, that's not really the trail experience I wanted because I wanted to do it with him, but I also really just wanted to experience it. I felt foolish and despondent about all the build-up of the past year to have it end this way. There was also this desire to do something extraordinary that felt taken away. And all of this is layered on top of feeling inexperienced with negotiating all of this with Seth. Long distance provides a lot of space to work out your stuff, obviously. Having to work out your own stuff and respond to your partner's stuff at the same time takes work! I kept getting confused between some made-up ideal of what a married couple does and how Seth and I do things. We had a series of conversations over the course of the car ride and after we arrived in Atlanta. It took just about the entire day to air everything out, which ultimately felt like a collaborative and supportive process, but, fuck, it was uncomfortable.
Soooooo, what's going to happen. Well, Seth and I have bought tickets to visit our friends in France for two and a half months from September to November. Definitely looking forward to that and also not sure what to do with myself over there. The couple we'll be staying with are incredible and definitely push us as individuals and a couple to grow and explore, so I think it'll be an excellent way to take this adventure. I have some loose ideas of meeting with ex-pat therapists to see how they set up their practices and work in Paris. We will probably do a little bit of traveling in Europe with our friends. It's still a little too undefined for me to be comfortable, but I know for sure part of this journey is about learning how to tolerate that better. A friend and I always talk about "reading the tea leaves" as a way to try to get perspective about what's happening in the current moment. We play at trying to make meaning of events before the benefit hindsight. It's really just a speculative game, but it does help to keep the bigger picture in view.
