Deep Creek saved my life last week. I've struggled for a long time with bipolar disorder, and life has been terribly hard for me recently. Last Thursday evening I hiked down from Bowen Ranch with minimal supplies, in the hope of finding some sliver of peace. I was not alone Thursday night but I kept to myself in the Anniversary Pool, smoking a lot of medicine and lost in my thoughts. I was driven to write poetry for the first time in several years. I forced myself to get into my sleeping bag around 2 AM and spent a long, very cold, very lonely night on the beach under the stars. The next morning I waited for the sun to appear over the top of the ridge, but when it warmed up I went over to the Womb. I've never been naked in public before, and it was hard for me to decide to strip down. But I was not alone and once I got into the water, it just seemed natural, even preferable to wearing shorts. I met a lot of different people, all with their own stories, and I enjoyed talking to everyone. Usually I'm very shy, but there I was, naked as the day I was born, hanging out in the hot pools with my new friends, and it was amazing. I met a lot of long-time DCHS veterans (some 30+ years!) and some others who were visiting for the first time. Everyone I met was warm and kind, and most of them seemed to have a more heightened level of awareness than the average American citizen. About 5 PM I started the hike back up with 3 others. I am in bad shape and have been smoking a lot of medicine over the last several months. Add to that almost no food during my visit, and not nearly enough water, and it was a perfect recipe for disaster. I could walk at most 20 feet at a time before I would have to stop for rest. I threw up twice during the hike, and at one point I was incredibly discouraged and almost ready to drop my pack and lie down on the trail, and wait for help. But somehow I kept walking, 10 or 20 feet at a time, until I started to see the trail markers, and I felt hope enough to push myself up the hill. When I did make it finally to my car, it took over an hour before I was able to drive out and back towards civilization. I wasn't cured of my mental illness, and I still have a tremendous mess of a life to try to piece back together. But my trip to Deep Creek gave me the chance to escape my problems for a day or so, meet lots of amazing, inspiring people, and restore enough hope in me to make it back home and keep trying. I have a goal now of visiting DCHS as much as possible, and that gives me another good reason to keep trying to get better, every day. I don't remember anyone's name from my time there last week, but to every one of you who I met, you helped restore my belief in the kindness of others, and you helped me find a way back from the edge of the abyss, neither of which I could have done anywhere else in this world. Deep Creek saved my life last week, and the thought of coming back is helping me find a way to keep getting better.
