Leaning into the discomfort.

The Seven Stages of Grief, Pandemic Edition

Good lord, it’s been a while…So, brace yourselves.

Over the last few months, I have sat down to write a new post but every time I attempt to put my thoughts to paper (so to speak), I'm at a complete loss. How the hell am I supposed to write about what’s going on, what I am dealing with throughout all this?! To say that this year has been a flat out SHIT SHOW DUMPSTER FIRE is putting it very mildly. But of course, as the saying goes, with the bad comes the good. And with that, while this year has been incredibly challenging and emotionally charged, it has also been incredibly remarkable for me. You know, the really high highs and the ridiculously, low lows. What a fucking rollercoaster… 

Recently, a question was posed to me; "what have you learned from this year? Any take aways, lessons, realizations, etc…over the last few months since the start of the pandemic and civil unrest?" (Also, let's pause here, shall we? And recognize the gravity of this situation we are ALL IN…we are in a global pandemic and watching history unfold. One in which every.single.human.on.this.planet is being affected by it). 

Anyway, this question didn't spark any new thoughts or revelations, nothing profound came from that question immediately. But I sat with it for a while and with all that has occurred this year thus far, (dear god, so much), I really started to focus on the events, on the lessons and on what matters most. And while my thoughts and fears are still swimming within me on a daily basis and I really don’t have any answers, things started to become a bit more clear for me.

Rewinding a bit. We kicked off 2020 with a bang, Brett and I. We just wrapped up a two-week ski tour in the Canadian Rockies, newly engaged (essentially married without the legal docs) and set big goals for climbing and alpine objectives for the spring and summer. And boy, was I feeling it! I was getting better and better with skiing, dropping steeper runs, learning to transition better in powder, planning on big alpine traverses and projecting 10’s and just falling more in love with my husband. Roaring 20’s, here we come! 

Then, injury struck. I did some serious damage to my right ankle, dropping a bowl I've skied countless times. Sloppy boots that I evidently grew out of fast and a too tight of a turn in deep powder and then next thing I know, I have a grade 3 sprain on ALL SIDES of my ankle. Cool…cool, cool, cool. Good job, April! I was heartbroken, but my determination always wins. So I rehabbed a ton, did all the right things and within a month, I was back! New boots, who dis?! 

And of course, par for 2020, the first day I was back on my skis, was the last day our local resort was open. COVID hit with a vengeance. But wait! We are totally set up for backcountry access. Hell yes, this is what we live for! Earn those turns! We got this. So that next weekend, we geared up and skinned up Palmer to earn our turns and in an instant, the National Forest Service shut 'er down. God dammit…

Gyms closed, state parks closed, local climbing crags…closed. Restaurants boarded up, all appointments canceled, work from home now mandated.. No more seeing friends. My 40th birthday celebrations canceled. The trip to Spain with Brett was canceled. The Hawaiian weekend celebration with my best friend, canceled. Spring ski trips to Cali and Alaska, canceled. All the outlets we do that fill us, all the plans we had laid out, shut down in an instant. The withdraws were instant and brutal. Shock, denial then anger. Stages One, Two and Three of grief began to set in. Grieving the life we lost.

Covid took over the world and turned it upside down in the blink of an eye. We watched it roll across Asia, to Europe to the US like a tidal wave of fear and uncertainty. It's wild, watching this all unfold. I will admit, when it all started to unfold, I didn't think we were going to be hit by this. Little did I know, the life we had would never be the same. Now, it's like preparing for battle just to go grocery shopping. I truly need to be mentally prepared to go into Trader Joe’s now! I can’t tell you how many times I have driven to the store just to realize I wasn’t ready for it, broke down crying then drove home. True story. 

We both felt completely lost. I lost friends in all of this. I lost all sense of my personal identity. I grappled with who I am and what I want in life. I was embarrassed that I could no longer portray myself as this wannabe outdoor badass. We lost it all. And who was I even kidding?! I’m not this person I painted myself to be. I wasn’t pushing myself with big objectives or training hard enough. Then the bargaining set in. If I only pushed myself more. If I had more time, I could have trained harder and dropped more mountains. If I wasn’t scared before this all happened. I should have done more. I should have gone for it, even if I wasn’t ready. Bargaining mixed with a heavy dose of losing my self-identity, a dash of imposter syndrome and a heaping side of lack of self-worth. Yeah...rough stuff.

So here we are. Left in the wake of overwhelming fear and the storm continues to build. The fresh trauma of this year, piling on top of the old and lighting up all of our triggers. I’ve felt so out of control with my anxiety and depression that it’s crippled me at times. One wrong move and I spiral. One thing occurs and my past traumas are triggered from my “ex.” Not posting enough regarding the civil rights movement has resulted in me being bullied. Not being able to see or hug my friends, my tribe. Not being able to go to the mountains and heal and do what I love, caused me to pause on posting photos. I felt like a fraud. I felt lost, hurt, beat down and fucking scared. Depression settled in big time. Hello, Stage five.

So I took a break. I stopped watching and reading the news, which was making both Brett and I unbelievably depressed and hopeless. I killed all social media for a month. I began a new workout program to help maintain some level of fitness. I began to search for a new job, as I was miserable in my work life. Brett and I hit a major hurdle, which lit up my trigger board and broke me down. So I upped my therapy to once a week and Brett and I worked through it, bringing us even closer now. Testing. See what works, what doesn’t. Stage six. 

And now, here we are, entering stage seven. Acceptance. No, the depression and anger hasn’t disappeared. It still remains. I still have loads of boxes to unpack to move past my last relationship. I still have more training to do for my mountain goals. I still have more learning to do in order to be a better ally for POC. I am still incredibly safe when it comes to Covid and still have fear around it. But that is life, in the end...we will always have more stuff to deal with and to take in. Because shit keeps happening and keeps getting worse. 

But I accept it. Come what may. Right?!

So what have I learned thus far? Fucking mountains worth. However, it’s not always easy to articulate it until you get through it all. But I have learned to pause, breathe and lean into whatever it is that is pushing back. I have had to learn to let go of those who no longer serve me or fit into my life. I have learned that my closest friends will always be there to help support me and provide space for me to work through life’s hurdles. And when I'm not feeling it, it’s okay to not be okay, and to be grateful for those surrounding me who allow me to go through those emotions. Because like it or not, this year is a glass house of emotions!

I’ve learned to put on my “count your blessings” type mentality - my family is healthy, my mom is safe, Brett and I both have jobs (I have a new job, too!), the dogs are happy (albeit a bit bored), Hailey is growing and thriving and my friends are safe and loved. I have learned that our personal relationships, our village, is what truly supports us in times of need and struggle, as well as times of joy and happiness.

This pandemic, the isolation that was forced on us has caused me  to realize I literally have no control over anything but my reactions to things. I have come to believe that I do have the ability to relax into that, to accept it. This is a big switch for me, as I have struggled with control my entire life.

We have been constantly confronted with change and the unknown throughout this entire year. Our reactions to these events and experiences is what changes us. It takes time for any change to happen, personally or systemically.  It gets really, really bad before anything happens. Change is so messy. And we truly don’t know if we made it through it all until we are truly on the other side of it. 

More importantly, we really don’t know what is next, right? Shit just keeps happening. So instead of fighting it, I accept it. And adapt. Because really, if the mountains that I miss so much have taught me anything over the years, it’s to adapt to the environment, the changes and the challenges. 

It’s not easy. Every day presents a new challenge. But I have learned to accept it, adapt and lean into the discomfort. Because that is when real change begins to happen. And with that, creating a new life. Time to get to work.