I laid awake all night, my mind spinning with thoughts, ideas, worries and anxieties- sleep deprivation is a pretty consistent reality in my life. I often spend nights laying awake, pondering, reflecting, planning things or struggling with my own thoughts. This reality makes daily life a challenge and it wears on me, especially, during the times in my life where I am out adventuring and consistently pushing myself physically and mentally for extended periods of time. It never matters how tired I am, most nights my brain refuses to turn off, despite anything I try or have tried, it is in the late hours of the night, the hours where the world sleeps and becomes quiet, that my creativity and inspiration comes alive. In the dark of night, my tired thoughts create my best writing. My best photographic ideas. My greatest adventure ideas. Under the stars, quiet, and with everything else at rest, my creativity lives. It is both a gift and curse. I have learned to live with it and to stop trying to fight it. It is just how I am. Who I am. The morning light came through my tent and it was time to get up and start the new day.
Day 4 on the Colorado River had begun. After breakfast, a group of us hiked up to the Nankoweap granaries. These amazing sites were once used as storage for foods such as corn and pumpkin seeds for the ancestral Puebloan people; about eleven hundred years ago it was a thriving agriculture community. Can you believe that? These historic people once stood there and looked out at the very River I was paddling, the very place I loved more than any other place on earth. They saw the River and the Canyon in its purest state, in its best state. Not like it was now, controlled by government and overrun with people. Overrun with the modern world. Long ago among those very cliffs; people, families and communities lived an extraordinarily difficult and wondrous life. Their stories still hung around there. Their struggles still surround that area and their artistic talent for building dwellings and such lives on forever. Sitting there looking down at the River is a special experience, you can feel the time lost and imagine time to come. Imagine your wildest dreams, for, the Grand Canyon is the keeper of all dreams.
After about an hour it was time to hike back to the beach and go down River. I could have stayed there forever, but, the River was calling. I got into my packraft and paddled away from Nanko. I was struggling with fatigue and grief all day. I was finally allowing my body to feel the pain associated with losing my sister. I was leaning into it for the first time. I was no longer pushing it away. This was the day I began the true journey through my grief and everything it encompassed. I was finally allowing myself to physically feel it. It was worse than anytime I can remember of being sick. But, it was my journey and I couldn’t exactly blurt it out to everyone. It didn’t matter how physically sick it made me feel, I had to walk through it or at least start the walk. And, there at the bottom of the Grand Canyon is where I would stop being scared of my grief and instead, no matter how painful it was, I would start to welcome it. Throughout the day, I ran Kwanguant rapid, 60 mile rapid and Lava Camp rapid and I stayed in my boat all day; I was proud of that. The eddies were terrible the entire day, they were exhausting. We finally ended our day at Espejo, a camp that sat below Espejo Butte, which was a fun and memorable climb for me. I remember climbing Espejo Butte in early 2019, as my partner and I made our way back to the Rim a rainbow shot across the rock, it was one of the most magical moments I have ever had in the Grand. I was happy to camp there, knowing that memory hung above me at camp. To be continued…
Tonight, I was walking back to my 4runner that was parked downtown. I let Zoroaster in and then walked to the back of my vehicle to get something out of it. A white truck pulled into the space behind me and proceeded to try and park. I waited for him to park before going into the trunk. He got very close to my bike rack on the back of my 4runner, I told him to please be careful and not hit my bike rack. He smiled at me, then drove right into my bike rack, breaking it, then reversed, then went forward again and hit my bike rack again. I told him he had just hit my bike rack, he heard me, his window was down. He began to call me a bitch, ask me, “what the fuck I wanted,” on and on he continued swearing at me and being scary aggressive. He then got out of his truck with his girlfriend, I told him that I was calling the police. He seemed to be intoxicated. He would not stop swearing at me while I was on the phone with 911, at one point he threw money at me and told me to fix my car. Even his girlfriend was trying to calm him down. He then drove off and told me what bar he was going to. A short time later, the police arrived and they did their report, they went over to get him at the bar he was at and cited him for criminal damage and disorderly conduct. Thankfully, a man sitting a way aways from my vehicle saw it all happen and gave a witness statement to the police. I will have to go to court and get restitution to pay for the damage.
But, the worst part is, that being put in that situation really impacted me emotionally, it brought me right back to the times where my ex husband David Beckley would threaten me, get drunk, call me a fucking cunt and a bitch, become violent, intimidate me, break my things, etc. The times when I would freeze and not know what to do or what to say. The situation tonight triggered all of those bad memories of the abuse from David and it took a huge physiological toll on me. I felt sick, I felt trapped, I had a headache, my heart rate went crazy and I couldn’t think clearly. I wanted to break down and cry, cry about all of the abuse from David, cry about all of the times he made me feel sad, scared, alone, worthless and less than human. Even months after divorcing him; I still very much live with the damage from what he did. I find it hard to protect myself, defend myself or believe in myself. I second guess myself on every decision. I don’t trust men. I am jumpy. I am hurt inside in ways that I am not sure I can or will recover from. The things David did to me were beyond cruel and tonight was a strong reminder that I have not processed the abuse. It was a reminder that the abuse still lives in my body, in my brain and it comes to life again whenever I am triggered. It is terrible, it makes me feel awful, it makes me feel weak. Weak because I can’t control the triggers, I can’t stand up to them- I give in to them. I am blindsided by them and they are so much more powerful than I am. They knock me over and just like that any progress I have made is gone. I remember so clearly the night David raped me. I remember all of the times he broke my things, drank, all of the name calling. I remember the day my little sister passed away and how he refused to come to the funeral with me, how evil he was to me in the days following my sister’s passing. I hold so much sadness and hurt from it all, from all of my time with David. I try to live each day and focus on the good parts of life, on my future and all, but, then I am right back at the bad moments and my life starts spinning in circles that make me so dizzy it seems impossible to get control of things again. Having a normal balance or routine seems impossible. I believe many other people deal with this sort of thing, with depression, anxiety, PTSD, and other chronic stressors or issues. We need to talk about it more, we need to encourage others to share their stories, to talk, to work towards processing and healing because we all have hurts and we all need a little more compassion and love. I chose to write. To be open and raw. For me writing is therapeutic and calming. It helps regulate me. Hopefully from my words others will feel understood. I am aware the triggers will come and go. I am aware I have terrible days, bad days and good days. I only hope in time my depression, anxiety and triggers will ease up. That they will cease to control my life and fade away to become just a part of my life, but, not the entirety of it. I do my own personal work towards that. I immerse myself in the wild, in adventure, I stay away from most people, because I find peace just by myself. I know myself and what I need and I work hard to allow myself those things even when it makes “normal” life harder or even when I have to be different, live differently. I still try. It would be easy to call it quits and give up, that is a constant thought in my head, but, then I would just be letting my past win. It is a daily battle, a battle I never wanted, but, have to fight.
The dictionary defines grief as- deep sorrow, especially that caused by someone’s death. It is said that there are 7 stages of grief- shock, denial, anger, guilt, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Some argue there are more of less stages. These stages are not linear in any way. They come and go, they tear at your heart, at your very existence, they beat you up, they paralyze you at times. They suffocate you.
In the first few months after losing Martha, I would have this dream almost every night. Martha and I were at our childhood home on Williamsburg Lane, we were in the back study together, she was a little girl again and in her nightgown and I was an adult, I was me today. She would smile and play, but, whenever I attempted to talk to her, she wouldn’t respond. It upset me. I would watch her play and smile in the dream. She had that cute little blonde bob haircut again and her innocent sweet smile with her teddy bear nightgown. She was adorable. Then, I would wake up and realize that she was gone and I would not be able to go back to sleep. I would just lay there and cry. I was so angry that she wouldn’t talk to me in the dream. After awhile, I started dreading sleep because I didn’t want to see her. It hurt too much. A few months later, the dream stopped and that upset me. I remember being alone on hikes or runs and screaming out loud to the universe, asking for the dream to return, it never did. I had moments in the woods where I would turn around to check on Zoroaster and I would see her standing there, clear as day. Then in a split second she was gone, it was though my brain was playing tricks on me. But I begged the universe for more moments like that for more dreams because I felt like maybe she was somehow checking in on me and I needed her. I needed my friend and sister back.
The morning she passed away, I was abruptly woken up at around 2:30 am. I couldn’t figure out what had woken me up. I tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn’t. I remember I took a bath and stayed up. Then around 11 am I got the news, Martha was gone!! I lost it. I cried out, I screamed so loud. I fell to the ground, I couldn’t even think straight. My world was shattered. Martha was gone??!? I knew right then that I had been woken up the moment she had passed away. I know it sounds insane, but, Martha and I were so close and connected. I couldn’t function or eat or even drive my car. I felt like I couldn’t breathe and I didn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t possible. That moment started the process of grief for me. The stages ebb and flow through me. The anger and depression stages are what I feel the most of the time.
My anger around her death is so incredibly deep and layered with an immense amount of emotion and questions that I’ll never know the answers to. I am so angry. I am angry at the person who was with her and didn’t call for help, instead he let her die alone on a cold floor. I am angry at the people who sold her the very thing that killed her. I am angry at my husband who blew me off that day and refused to come to the funeral with me. I am angry at myself for not calling her more and messaging her more. Maybe just one text or call from me would have changed what happened. I am angry at the entire situation. Finding a place for that anger seems impossible because it’s just so deeply rooted.
Then, on the other hand, the depression from grief, that comes across me as fast as a hurricane wind, it knocks me over. It makes every part of me ache. The deepness of the sadness is overwhelming. It’s indescribable. At times I feel like a zombie and I feel as though I just can’t take it. It’s too painful. It’s too much!!! I already struggle with depression and anxiety and her death and the grief surrounding it, makes me feel even more lost and sad. More defeated. I swirl around each stage of grief, never knowing which stage I’ll be in on any given day. Some days, I pass through multiple stages at the same time or within hours of each other. It’s a never ending process of hell. I hope through the years that it will ease up, but, how do you cover up such a big hole? How do you let that go? My brain knows she’s gone, but my there’s a part of it that cannot accept it and that’s the part that is still riding through grief and trying to find a way to be okay with what happened. Maybe I’ll get there one day.
David Isaiah Beckley was my husband, he lied about loving me, he never honored his vows, he drank way too much, he became violent and cruel on so many occasions to me and towards others. His attorney threatened to sue me for defamation recently for writing about the abuse I faced while being with him. David blamed me for everything, he stonewalled me. If I made a mistake, he would completely ignore me-go to his mom’s house, not help with money, not see or talk to me- sometimes this went on for weeks or months at a time. He stonewalled each and every attempt I made at talking about things, trying to work things out or communicate. He lied about everything-going to therapy, his relationships with other women, being sorry for hurting me, getting sober and caring about me. It was all lies.
David raped me in November of 2018 at our apartment. He was drunk. When I attempted to speak to him about it he called me a slut, ignored me or told me I was a liar. He claims he doesn’t remember raping me even though he sent me a text message a few months before the assault, threatening to rape me and sent me texts after apologizing for and admitting it. I felt so lonely and sad. I tried to convince myself it didn’t happen or that it was okay. I told myself to be quiet about it, to protect him from legal trouble, to just deal with it. To just act like it never happened. That did not work out so well. It created deep craters of pain, anger and resentment inside of me. It began to break apart who I was.
I began to believe all the names he called me. I began to believe everything really was my fault. If only I wasn’t in a pissy mood, then he wouldn’t have called me a fucking bitch, or a cunt, he wouldn’t have ignored me for days. If I wasn’t a fucking bitch then he would have come to my sisters funeral with me. I must be controlling to ask him to come get his dog and I who are stranded after work instead of run with his buddy, he’s, right, that was controlling. How could I expect that? I was as bitch. How could I think he’d come see me when I am sick and help me instead of going paragliding? That was so controlling of me, thats what I would tell myself after he yelled at me or called me names. I began to feel as though reasonable requests were wrong and I was in the wrong to expect my husband to put me first or to ever be there for me. Like he said the day my sister died, I was on my own and I needed to leave him out of it. He wanted to be left alone and only be my husband when he wanted to be, otherwise, I was alone. The abuse challenged everything I believed about marriage and it left me feeling so bad about myself. Whatever little self esteem I did have, was gone. He would say to me, “If you were normal, I wouldn’t be violent.” I started to feel like the problem was me and me alone.
David has a very unhealthy dynamic with his mom, he lives with her and always returns to her house when he cannot handle things, its like his castle, where he is protected and no one can touch him or talk to him, even his wife. His mom has him locked up so tight there, that once he’s there, you cannot get him out of there. The morning my sister died, his mother called my father’s office and demanded proof my sister was dead. Of course this would upset anyone, seeing as this is abnormal and hurtful behavior. When I expressed to his mother how awful what she did was, of course, David took her side. How dare I talk to his mom like that? Absolutely zero acknowledge of what she did, it was all my fault and I was in the wrong. David constantly deals with his mom’s drinking and erratic behaviors when she is drunk. It’s a terrible scene and it only serves to encourage his drinking and abusive behavior. She rattles off insults to him when she is drunk, she does crazy things to him and others and she protects David’s poor behaviors at any cost. Some days I would be welcomed into the house with David and other days I wouldn’t be and I would have to sit in his truck outside and wait for him. I never knew when I was welcomed or when I was hated. It was insane. David never stood up for me or for our marriage and he allowed his parents to treat me as though I was less than human. I began to feel so lost and worthless because that’s how he treated me.
I am not looking for sympathy or anything else, I’m just releasing it all off of my heart and in doing so I hope I can start to heal and maybe help others find their courage to leave. I’ve spent long enough feeling broken and sad. I wish I could say that I didn’t love him anymore, but, that would be a lie.
Below is a document off of my phone notes app citing the abuse I faced, the names he called me, the things he did to me. I began documenting it in 2018 as a record for myself to try and give me the courage to leave. I didn’t leave then, but, I did recently.
Dumb Cunt Crazy Weird Bitch Horrible person Says Why would anyone want me Tells me I have little girl wants and ideas He says I make him do what he does, it’s my fault Says he can’t do anything without drinking Says that I am Psycho Ugly Fat Slut Insecure Needy Piece of shit Liar Fuck you Psycho Go fuck someone else I hate you Tells me that i make him drink Calls me a pussy when I say that I’m scared of him when he drinks and how he talks to me Pathetic Stupid Tells me to just get over it when I tell him something that bothers me or hurts me
My anxiety is so bad, I can’t sleep or eat and my nights and days are miserable. I’m filled w so much shame being w him. I’m not perfect, but he’s awful when he drinks, 10 beers tonight, says it’s not a big deal it’s just beer.
He tells our intimate business and issues to everyone. I’m not safe confiding in him
He humiliates me in front of other friends when they are over at our place
He mocks me and laughs at me
Tells me he wants to take care of me and that it’s okay that I’m not working right now, then throws it in my face and uses it against me. He shames me all the time
I tell him to be quiet late at night so our neighbors don’t hear us and he tells me to shut the fuck up or says fuck you
Said he’s so angry he wants to hurt me He says I am deeply disturbed and I’ll probably kill him in his sleep. When I ask him if he thinks he’s disturbed, he says no!
He patronizes me He laughs at me He doesn’t show me he cares, blows me off when I want to talk, says leave me the fuck alone. He says he cares but doesn’t really show me.
Records me Slams bedroom door at night waking up and screaming it’s so fn hot.
Sexually assaulted me, have video recording
He makes me feel uneasy and anxious, I cant bring up any issues with him! He will ignore me, blame me, or attack me.
He said that Everyone in my family knew I was a pos. He called me a Fat ass Threatens to leave all the time When I tell him he is acting crazy, he says you haven’t seen crazy yet. Grabs my jacket and gets in my face
Fat fuck Grabbed my hair and hit my head against the cabinet at my parents house Left and got drunk and came back to my parents house Called me a worthless pos Never wants to talk and tells me to just get over it Condescends me all the time Points his finger in my face Tells me to look at him, fn look at me Said this isn’t bad yet, I’m not cutting your throat or something Says I shouldn’t listen to his mom when she tells me that he isn’t like his dad
12/7/18 Called me a Cunt, psycho Says He’s w me because he feels sorry for me Says we should break up that he doesn’t want me Contradicts everything he says, I don’t know what to believe Hurt Zoroaster Thursday night out on a walk and then attacked me verbally about it when I calmed Zoroaster down after he ran into my arms because he was scared Blame shifting Ignoring me Silent treatment Name calling Making me seem unstable to his family so I look like the bad one Not apologizing for things Says sex w me is not good Dismissing my feelings and thoughts Always is “tired” when I want to talk
Said I have no self respect because I stay with him
I am not allowed to ask him questions or he’ll attack me
Left me at the movie theater, blamed me for having to spend money to get home from the theater and the movie tickets.
I’m the shittest girlfriend I’m selfish Tonight we took a drive out near Faye Canyon and he was drinking, he was driving crazy, carelessly. He says it doesn’t matter because we are on a dirt road. He slid almost hitting a tree. It scared me so much, I got out of his truck and walked all the way home, while he drove alongside of me most of the way saying mean things and taunting me.
Then he said I was a pussy because I got scared when he almost hit a tree
He Grabbed my sides under my chest and pushed me against the wall in between the bedroom and bathroom doors, left red marks on my skin, in pics!
Thursday this week
He was so nice at Bashas though he was very drunk. Started to verbally abuse me when we got home- lazy fat fuck, selfish. Took my phone from me, pushed me twice. Left. I called police. Then he said he almost ran into my 4runner and that he didn’t feel bad for putting his hands on me. Ignored me all Friday
12/15/18 Continues to ignore me, but said via text that I have never done anything for him and that I am selfish. Said he can’t be around me because it’s not safe, he’s the one who drinks and is abusive. Ignores the fact that Zoroaster needs food. And ignores me even though he knows it hurts me. Amazing still no apology for pushing me or what he did! It’s nuts!! Came home super drunk after driving across town and had a breakdown crying for hours. Told me he was gay!
12/22 Said he wanted to Light me on fire Moron Fat ass Lazy I am a witch Kicked me, but then said, he didn’t and if he had I’d be in the hospital Worthless Said I was Entitled Ignored me Got very drunk (13 beers) Said I’ve no work ethic Told me my family wouldn’t care if I died Asked me how far I wanted to walk tonight, then said, I won’t kick you out of the truck here 🙂 like it was funny Told me I was so messed up, so fucked up he said this while he was driving completely intoxicated and emotionally abusing me and I was sitting in his truck trying not to say the wrong thing, being quiet! He says he isn’t fd up and has no issues.
He said I was lazy and bitches about me not working, when he convinced me not to because he said he wanted to take care of me, now he shamed me for his choice
Mocked my suicide attempt and said it Fd up my brain.
Very loud and drunk late at night and I am worried about the neighbors complaining, he says fuck the neighbors and continues to play his loud music on his phone.
Said he’d like to light me on fire
Bitch Got in my face and yelled at me demanded I apologize for something I didn’t do Drinking nonstop On his phone nonstop when we are trying to play a game together- stood up got in my face and dumped the scrabble board over Grabbed my leg while demanding an apology Stupid
Tried to set boundaries with him and tell him how mean he was being, how much he was hurting me- he laughed at me, told me to get the fuck out of our apartment, get the fuck out of his face even though I was sitting on the bed, he said that my fat ass should leave him. That I suck! He’s beyond terrible! It’s hell living w him!
Choked me and told me to leave our apartment- neck is red- there are pics of my neck, after he choked me I was shaking and crying because I was so scared, he said to stop acting like a child, stop shaking. I am an adult and this is life. My throat and neck hurt
12/24 Didn’t apologize for choking me, he said he didn’t when I told him what he did. Spent the day without me, said he didn’t want to be around me because I suck. Said he had to go get me a stupid gift My neck still feels very sore I hate you Don’t want to be w you Rather be In jail than w you I wouldn’t be violent if you were normal Said he isn’t paying rent anymore
7/2019 Blew me off when my sister died Fucking cunt Bitch Ignores me Breaks each and every promise since we got married Terrible husband Attacks me verbally and psychically all the time Blames me for everything I’m fn psycho for wanting him to come to Martha’s funeral w me Never once asked me how I was when my sister died Didn’t even come over and be w me when I found out, blew me off and said I was on my own Drinking again Says he’ll fix my car but doesn’t Financial abuse, promises to help me w money then attacks me and says I should ask my dad for money. wastes money and lies about it so we don’t have money for a place or important things. Uses my credit card but doesn’t help pay for it Told me to quit my job and not go to fire, said he’d take care of me but then mocks me and is mean to me about not working. Says I’m worthless and lazy and too good to work Makes fun of my depression Told me to quit Mick’s and focus on getting side work then he won’t go do bids Won’t give me access to his bank info or money
Refused to come to the ER on 6/30/19 said I was lying and then came after few hours and was so so mean to me Gas lights me Ignores me, I can’t ever rely on him or trust him He’s not ever there for me Was terrible to me when Martha died, completely blew me off and refused to come to the funeral w me His crazy mom called my dads office and demanded a pic of Martha’s dead body Called me a Fn slut Called me a fn Cunt, worthless, ugly and fat Punched me bruised my arm Punched my car by gas tank dented it Drinking so much and saying awful things to me Mocked and laughed at me when I try to talk about when he sexually assaulted me. Tell me to get out of his fn truck and if I pass out he doesn’t care he’ll run me over Blows me off for Xmas Blows me off for new year’s Lies to me about drinking Blows Zoroaster and I off when we need help so he can run w a friend, Zoroaster and I walk the highway home. Blows off our anniversary Blows off Valentine’s Day Calls me terrible names, mocks me, makes me feel so alone and of no value Refuses to talk to me Says he hopes I get Coronavirus and throws a gallon of water at me bruising my lower back.
Pushed me and hurt my neck while I was walking away from his truck. Called me names Blew off another pregnancy Drinking and ignoring me Lying to me about work Lying to me about go to counseling I setup Beckleys Tree service and David blew it off. David broke every promise and marriage vow. Always said he wanted to work things out, but, never DID anything to make that happen, all talk. Blamed everything on me
I Filed divorce 6-16-20 Called me psycho Said he didn’t love me Said he hated me Told me to get the fuck out of his life
David and I had planned on making pasta for dinner that night, it was a cold November night out and I was excited to spend time with him, to cuddle up and laugh and have a good evening. We were both in the kitchen, David was drinking, he started saying mean things to me and calling me names. When he drinks, I never know when that will happen, but, it is always sure to happen at some point. I attempted to calm him down, to talk to him, but that made no difference. I was a bitch, I was a miserable person, I sucked, I was a horrible person, on and on and on it went as he paced from the kitchen to the couch drinking and insulting me. I finally went into the bedroom and then to take a bath, just to try and get away from him. After my bath, I went back into the bedroom and laid on the bed. A short time later David came into the bedroom and crawled on top of me. I could smell the alcohol on his breath and he was still saying terrible things to me, he pinned my hands down on the bed and took my pants off. I told him that I did not want to have sex, but, he forced himself inside of me. He was rough with me, he just kept saying terrible things to me, calling me names- cunt, bitch, slut, etc. I told him to stop, I tried to get him off of me, but I couldn’t. He just kept having sex with me. I was crying and struggling to get him off of me. He didn’t care. He didn’t stop. He was so intoxicated that he seemed to not even be there. Like he was in a different world.
After it happened, I went back into the bathroom and took another bath. I couldn’t believe what he had done to me, I did not know what to do. Was it rape? We were dating. I did not know. I thought about calling the cops, but, I didn’t and I told myself it was okay. I sat in the bath for a long time. I was hoping he would fall asleep because I did not want to talk to him. I was hurting so much. I was crushed. Should I report him? Is it a crime? What just happened? He was drunk, does it matter? I did not want to get him into criminal trouble. I just sat in the bathtub and cried. I waited along while before going back into the bedroom, when I did he was passed out and snoring. I crawled into bed and laid awake all night, in the morning he got up and got ready for work, he did not say anything about what happened to me. He left for work as though nothing had happened. As though everything was okay.
I tried a few times to bring it up in the coming weeks and months to talk about it with him, but, he called me a liar and a slut and shut down the conversation quickly. I should have left him, but, I didn’t. I have been carrying this around, trying to convince myself that it was okay and that what I know happened must be wrong. That it wasn’t a big deal. It has been a long time since that night. David and I have gotten married and I have tried to put that evening behind me and go forward, because I loved him. But the truth is, I can’t forget it and though I have questioned whether it was rape or not, IT WAS. He raped me! Even if I am in a relationship with someone it does not give them the right to violate me and to blatantly ignore the facts about what they did. It is time to get this off of my chest and to try and let it go. David has the ability to be charming, but he is very dangerous and he has a major drinking problem. He assaulted his buddy last December and left him with permanent injuries, he claims he does not have a clear memory of that either. David believes it’s okay to treat people in despicable ways and that somehow it’s justified. I tried to justify it to myself, I couldn’t. I found that in trying to do so somehow it always lead me back to blaming myself and that’s completely misplaced, the entire blame is his and his alone.
Being silent about this has only served to destroy me more. I lost my inner security that night; I lost my confidence and strength and it has created such a terrible place for me inside of myself, a place of fear, anxiety, sadness and anger- it has robbed me of time, of happiness, of self worth, of safety. I still struggle with basic daily tasks. I feel broken. I feel alone. I feel so incredibly broken and that may never go away. What he did to me will never be undone and the only recourse I have is to tell my story, attempt to seek to process what happened and make sure he cannot hurt me again. David continues to lie about what he did and take no accountability, the worst part is, he truly doesn’t care about what he did or how it’s impacted my life.
I was slow to pack up the morning after I entered into New Mexico. It was freezing out. My body was now in trouble. I was really struggling just to get ready that day. Everything seemed so hard. The day started with lots of rocky climbs. I struggled with each mile. FR 87 was rough and I was in no position to be riding that day. A few hours into the day, I called my parents crying- I was exhausted beyond exhaustion. My body was rejecting the physical aspect of the riding. My mom got online to look at maps trying to find a way for me to get off so I could quit. Honestly, I was at that point. My body was giving up on me, it didn’t care about my goals. I could hear my parents concern and worry. They know all too well that I often push myself past my limit and that my health issues cause me a great deal of stress and pain and my body is impacted by all of that. I just kept telling them that I wasn’t going to quit. That of course did not make my mom happy, but, I couldn’t quit. I had to keep going. I tried to reassure them as much as I could, but I think I was really just trying to reassure myself. I hung up and got back on my bike. There was a nice ROCKY descent after my phone call and it gave me some relief from the climbing. That was short lived though. I then began to push my bike up a half mile of some ridiculous terrain filled with sharp rocks and lose gravel. You absolutely couldn’t ride that section. Ugh! Right before the top of the climb I fell to the ground. I was crying like a baby. I was done. Mentally and physically I was done. Little did I know 100 yards away was an amazing view on top of Brazos Ridge looking down into Cruces Basin Wilderness. When I finally got to the top, the view was rewardingly peaceful and pretty epic.
I took a long break up there and then continued on FR 87. I was still struggling a lot. I was fighting each mile. I was fighting myself and I was fading. I always always carry extra food- usually one or two days extra- but I just couldn’t stop eating. I couldn’t get satiated. I was going through all of my extra food and I knew I was going to run out. I wasn’t riding as fast as I had planned and my tummy just couldn’t stop feeling hungry. It’s a terrible feeling to be eating through your extra days of food and knowing you will soon run out. On top of that my Crohn’s was flaring up and I was weak.
Riding down from Brazos Ridge was pretty fun and soon enough the road became smoother. I kept riding on FR 87, it went up and then down some and then back up, but the road was in good shape and the riding was pretty easy. Eventually, I started heading down through the aspen trees towards the Rio San Antonio. I could feel the sun get more intense as I approached the bottom of the descent and I wanted to find a place to camp, but, I knew I had to keep riding and so I did. I crossed the Rio San Antonio and turned off of FR 87 and onto FR 133. A couple miles later I met a guy driving back from a bike ride. I asked him what the closest town was, he told me about Tres Piedras and offered to take me there for some real food and a night of good rest.
Logistically, though getting back to the route from that point would have been too hard, so I decided to continue another 11 miles or so and try and hitch into Tres Piedras from highway 64. I really needed food and I needed some real rest, but I couldn’t put myself in a situation where returning to the route would be difficult. I kept riding, as I rode I felt so lonely, so tired, so defeated. When I got to Cisneros Park I could see the mountains of Colorado and that only made me feel more lonely. I missed my friends. I missed connecting to people and laughing and missed having days where I wasn’t on my bike. I followed FR 133 passed a dry Beehive Spring and began descending into Little Tusas Creek. The cows seemed to be amused by me, they were very vocal as I rode by. A short time later I got to highway 64, walked to the other side of the road and stuck my thumb out. I was going into Tres Piedras for the night. I had ridden only 44 miles that day, but for my body it felt like 100. The traffic was slow on highway 64 and the day was quickly ending. I didn’t want to be on the side of a highway when it got dark. A few cars went by and then the same guy I had met earlier that day pulled over. Unfortunately, my bike tires were too big to fit on his rack, but him and his friends flagged down a truck and I finally told got a ride into town. They dropped me off at the only restaurant in town. I ran in and found out they were closed, I was bummed. I secured a room for the night there at the motel and I bought a handful of goodies they had at the bar. The lady who runs the place stopped me before I left and asked me what I wanted to eat. She knew about bikers on the divide and she stayed late to cook me some food. She also told me to come back in the morning for breakfast. After a nice full dinner, I went to my room to unwind and eat all the goodies I had bought. I sat on the bed and ate for almost an hour and a half straight. It was like I was garbage disposal, I just kept shoving food in my mouth. I was able to really relax and get some good warm sleep and that made a giant difference. I slept in, I didn’t rush back on my bike in the morning. I stayed for breakfast and bought more snacks to take with me. I left around 11 and started to hitch back to where I had gotten off the route the night before. It was amazing how one night with lots and I mean lots of food completely turned me around. It was just what I needed.
After a much needed day off in Lima (I called it Lima Bean) I headed out for a 57 mile day which would end with meeting the Denver boys at Upper Lake Campground in the Red Rocks National Wildlife Refuge. It was pretty easy riding that day, however, my body was still wiped from the 81 mile day into Lima. I arrived late afternoon and the boys were already there, sitting in the shade at a picnic table. I remember eating a ton of food, talking about food we wished we had and enjoying the cold water from the piped spring at the campground.
Leaving Upper Lake Campground, I left before the boys and headed for the Idaho border. I was ready to be out of Montana and into a new state. Afterall, Montana was over 700 miles and it seemed at times as though I was never leaving that state. So I was really looking forward to riding into Idaho and feeling like I was making progress. At about 12.8 miles from camp after summiting Red Rocks Pass I entered into Idaho and the Caribou-Targhee National Forest. Yay!!! Idaho!! I rode for another 18 or so miles and stopped at highway 20. A few miles before stopping at the highway the route took me through an amazing section of trail winding aspens and flowers, it was absolutely beautiful and peaceful and oh the smells, the smells of the forest. The smells are so good for my soul. At the highway, the boys caught up to me and we all rode down the highway into Mack’s Inn and went straight for the Mexican restaurant. We ate a lot. Then we decided to go live it up at the Marriott for the night and watch scary movies and of course, eat more. There we were dirtbag filthy bikers in the fancy clean Marriott lobby, it was a hilarious site to see. We enjoyed our evening there and in the morning against our best judgment and the advice of my mother to stay another night, we headed out in the sub 40 degree pouring rain 🌧 the route followed an old rail way and it was, well, it was not fun. The bumps, the rain, the cold, the washboards, holy moly!!!!! My fingers burned all day from being so cold and I was soaked. When I arrived at Warm River-it’s not warm :)- the boys had taken over the group campsite and awning picnic area and looked just as defeated and cold as I was. We unpacked everything and laid it out on the covered picnic tables to dry. It was so cold!!!! We decided to get wood from the camp host to build a fire, which is something that is rare, but on that night, we needed a fire to warm up and lift our spirits. On the way to the camp hosts site we were offered chocolate cake from a couple I had met right before I got to the campground. Chocolate cake!!!! We happily took the cake and began chatting with them. I noticed the women’s bike and I fell in love with it. That’s where my bike addiction will start, that exact moment of thinking and planning on having more than one bike. Not good. Ugh! After chatting with the couple and exchanging stories and such we made it to the camp hosts site and bought a bundle of wood. We returned to camp, cooked dinner, built a fire and boiled water to put in our water bottles inside our sleeping bags to keep us warm. It was a cold cold 🥶 night at Warm River! But as always camped with the Denver boys made the sucky times a little easier and better.
In the morning, I left and headed towards Flagg Ranch about 47 miles, the air was freezing in the first hours of the day, but the scenery was beautiful. Riding Ashton Flagg Ranch Road was awesome. So pretty! Grassy Lakes reservoir was crystal clear and the colors throughout the day were brilliant. I arrived at Flagg Ranch in the afternoon and planned on camping there until I found out how ridiculously expensive it was to stay there. I waited for the boys to get there and we ordered food, bought snacks and decided to ride another mile to different campground down the road that wasn’t going to charge us $82 to pitch three tents. When we got to the campsite this guy and his son welcomed us into their campsite and we setup there. As if that wasn’t kind enough of him, he offered to take us into Yellowstone to see Old Faithful. We took him up on his offer and went along for a night I’ll never forget. We saw old faithful, Grand and a few other geysers erupt under the stars. Pretty rad! It was a late night, but, so worth it. The kindness from strangers is just so amazing and it’s what makes this journey what it is. That night I started having bad pain in my legs, achy, painful, annoying sensations that made it hard for me to sleep.
The next day, I left early as always. I knew I only had 16 miles into Colter Bay, WY, but the pain in my legs became worse and I couldn’t even pedal, it was so bad. I didn’t know what to do. I hadn’t experienced that sort of constant pain in my legs before. Those 16 miles into Colter Bay seemed to never end. At that point on the route, those were some of the hardest miles for me due to the pain. I walked a lot of it. The redeeming part of that section was finally getting to see the Tetons. When I arrived at Colter Bay the boys had already secured a cabin. I told the boys about my leg pain and Zach suggested maybe I was low in salt, he gave me a salt pill and we took the rest of the day off. The salt pill did in fact help with the leg pain and I realized I was going to have to pay closer attention to my electrolyte intake so this pain wouldn’t becomean issue again. The amount of tourists was a tad too much for me, but I needed the rest, I needed to do laundry and resupply so it was what it was.
The following morning, I left Colter Bay and headed into Grand Teton National Park. A few miles before the park, I met this photographer and we talked for awhile. He gave me water and a Coke and snapped a few pictures of me- it’s hard to get pictures of yourself when traveling alone, so I’m always happy when I have someone willing to take a few pictures of me. Proof I’m actually doing what I say I am 🙂 after riding into the national park I saw signs stating there were grizzlies in the area and to stay in your car. A few minutes later I saw a group of people on the side of the road, I then looked to my left and saw two grizzly cubs playing in the trees. I got off my bike and moved further off the road. Then, there the two cubs came, out of the trees onto the road and then came mama grizzly. All three crossing the road right in front of my bike. They were so beautiful 😍 what a special experience that was. I could watch them for hours but wanted to be respectful and let them be and continued on with my day. To be continued…..
As I finish up the last week of preparations for my upcoming bike ride from the Canada to Mexico, I feel many things, I feel strong, but, scared, scared of the unknown and the loneliness I am about to endure. I feel excited and also nervous because I am leaving a safe place and replacing it with living off of my bike, away from my life as I know it. I have done this dance many times in the past prior to big adventures and it has always provided a time of reflection and it has allowed me to push myself, to get uncomfortable and to embrace the adventure ahead. Biking is way different than hiking, it requires more focus, more logistical planning, more thought. I have been able in my past adventures to zone out while moving, to get in a routine of constant movement on the earth and to allow myself to get inside of my own head and face whatever comes up. When I am peddling, I cannot give myself that same freedom to explore my inner thoughts and just stay in my own head. I have to focus on where I am riding, what is up ahead and I have to connect not only with earth under me, but, also with the bike that I am riding. I cannot lose my focus. Maybe some can, but, I cannot, I will no doubt fall off my bike or run it into something. In many ways this new form of travel for me is a welcome distraction because it will require more focus and not allow for exploring my thoughts and what is in my head as much as I can do while hiking. Biking is a faster form of movement, you cover more ground and it is not as peaceful and quiet or connected to the ground as hiking is. But, it is still pretty grounding in its own way. Being on a bike for me, brings up feelings of being a little kid, it is a whole kind of freedom in its own way 🙂 My hopes are that with each mile I pedal on my trip, that some amount of healing will occur, that some shift will happen inside of myself. I hope I can remember my strength and use it at the moments when I am completely broken out there, because those moments will come up. I look forward to the next few months on my bike, stopping to see family and friends, breathing in mountain air, connecting to the mountains, connecting to myself again. I have no idea whether or not I can pull this off, but, I will give it my best go and whatever happens from that will happen. The last year has been the hardest year of my life. I lost my sister, who was a great support and friend to me and I have divorced a guy who was beyond terrible to me. I have had moments of indescribable sadness and pain, moments when I thought I could not go on, times when I wanted to pull all of my hair out and scream and never stop. I have watched as the world has changed. I have been shattered and it is time to pick those pieces up and make something worth while out of what has happened.
Today when I woke up and got ready for my day, I did not put on my wedding ring. I knew I was filing for a divorce today and so there was no need for my ring. I went to the courthouse by myself, as I filled out the paperwork my hands were shaking, my heart rate was high, my heart ached, my brain was roller coasting through every thought and memory related to him. One memory in particular stands out, last year when my sister, Martha, passed away; David refused to attend the funeral with me. He told me I was on my own, that it was a family matter and to leave him out of it. He called me a fucking psycho for expecting him to come to the funeral with me. I attended her funeral without him, the grief from losing her made me blind to how terrible and hurtful his behavior was. Even while I was home for her funeral he continued his terrible text messages and name calling. On the day I buried my sister he again called me a fucking psycho for trying to reach out to him via text. For the last 11 months I have been trying to make sense out of his cruelness towards me during that time. But, you see, it isn’t just that one bad time. David thrived on hurting me, making me feel worthless, unimportant, and alone. David routniely called me names such as a fucking cunt, bitch, worthless, pathetic, ugly, fat, lazy, and crazy. I began to feel as though I was all of those horrible things he said I was. I started to feel like a miserable person and bad person, like everything was my fault because that is what he told me. But, I am none of those things and I allowed him to rob me of my courage, strength and happiness. I let him hurt me because I was too scared to leave and because I rarely ever truly stood up for myself. I am the girl who can walk across the country by herself, hang from ledges in the Grand Canyon, help animals in need, make people laugh, but, for some reason I could not stand up to him. I could not see clearly enough to leave. I endured his constant threats of divorcing me, his punishment of ignoring me for weeks and sometimes months at a time if I did something wrong, his drinking and broken promises of getting sober. I let him intimidate me, abandon me, mock me, call me terrible names, break my possessions, threaten me, sexually and physical assault me. I let him take the best parts of who I was and I watched as he suffocated them. Dealing with grief from losing Martha has taken a huge toll on me physically and mentally and then adding the stress from our marriage on top of that became too much for me. I decided to take my life back, I decided to talk about what he did and how much he hurt me because I feel as though it is an important part of of the healing process. With all of that said, I can be a difficult, selfish, unfriendly person at times, and that somehow made me believe that I deserved his abuse, that if for example I just didn’t have a pissy tone with him that he wouldn’t have called me a cunt or ignored me for weeks. But that is flawed logic, because nothing I have done wrong has ever warranted any of his abuse. The problem is NOT me. Somewhere deep down I have always known that, but, admitting it and taking action is hard, it is hard to divorce your husband, it is hard to feel alone, to feel unsure. Despite that, today, I had to take action, I had to stand up and tell him that I was leaving him. That I will no longer allow his abuse to destroy who I am. That I was going to be my own rescue boat and sail far away. That I had a life to live, I just needed to remember who I was, to remember how strong I was and what adventures I had left. So I filed for divorce, took the paperwork to the Sheriff to have him served and drove home. I swear as I was driving home I saw Martha smile and give me a thumbs up. Before she passed she encouraged me to divorce him, but I didn’t listen. She always said, don’t let anyone treat you as though you are free salsa, because baby, you are guacamole 🙂 I finally took her wise advise.