Poems, Prose & Short Stories Galore: Heartfelt Proof of Life Lived

North Country's Glory

Trigger warning: Mention of s***cide

~~~

One of the most memorable times I ever felt the glory of the north country's beauty was my 20th birthday. My family collectively decided to climb a mountain called Poke-O'-Moonshine in Lewis, NY. As a gamer child who occasionally enjoyed the outdoors, I felt excited to climb a mountain. It was freeing considering that just months before, my mother, three siblings, and I were stuck with an abusive swindler of a man who enjoyed alcohol way too much and had an unhealthy lust for children.

There's no need to guess how I know that.

There were a few bumps along the way. Just before I left the house, I argued with my situation-ship partner, whom I loved and was frustrated with due to his actions of being around people who, per his words, weren't good to or for him. Especially his ex-girlfriend; you can deduce how I felt about her when he told me stories of her leaving him for hours in the park to do his homework while it began to rain, manhandling him against the wall, consistently cheating on him, and other such behavior. Mountain climbing was a way to get fresh air, clear my head, and enjoy the moment.

I don't remember much from the 30-minute drive. I remember having an American flag on my bright blue t-shirt, tan shorts, and shoes not for mountain climbing. It took more than an hour to hike upwards, considering I stopped plenty of times along the way --- huffing, puffing, and quite dramatically saying that I was dying. My Auntie scolded me to get me to stop, and while I don't remember what I said, I do remember having an inkling of a thought that said, 'I'm not telling you to die, and we all get there eventually. Leave me alone, thanks.'

Still, I was enjoying every minute. The air had a crisp taste, akin to the first bite of a freshly picked red apple; the greenery was bright and luscious. I was delighted by how at certain parts the stones seemed to have been carved into steps for us to venture forward. Was it by man, or by nature?

When we got to the top --- oh, how glorious, beautiful, amazing, awe-inspiring. You could see fellow mountains across the way and the highway below. Even though fellow humans were with us, you could still hear the birds chirping in the surrounding area. It was the kind of view that made you want to breathe as deeply as you could to take it all in.

I got a couple of pictures and decided to sit at the very edge of the mountain, my legs dangling and feeling the warm rock underneath. It felt so peaceful, which was a godsend given that I had suicidal ideation. I actually didn't want to throw myself down the mountain; I didn't feel an inkling of an urge.

The feeling didn't last long; the bubble popped when my grandma in her fear asked me to move away from the edge. It was understandable in hindsight. At the time though, I didn't have those thoughts, so it felt like a personal jab that revealed a belief that "I can't enjoy myself; whatever good I got gets ridiculed or taken from me."

So I told her to leave me alone, as respectfully as I could. "If seeing me like this stresses you out, then look somewhere else."

Harsh, yes. Truthful, also yes. With everything that has happened to me thus far, that was as nice as I could be.

Then I got called a bitch by my younger sister, which only fueled the fire of ire. I wasn't bothering anyone --- in fact, last time I checked I was minding my own business enjoying nature. How is it that I'm the problematic one in this situation? No one cared, in my point of view, about my suicidal ideation and depression enough to do anything else. Then the one time I breathed and felt like it was okay to be alive in this moment, I get told that what I was doing was making someone else feel uncomfortable, and then a bitch for defending my right to enjoy this moment.

Regardless, the interaction left as quickly as it came. We enjoyed the mountaintop for a small while longer before we left. The way down was much easier than the way up thankfully. Overall it was a satisfying memory and experience that brings me contentment as I ponder about it.

I suppose the moral of the story is: let yourself enjoy the mountain, and don't let other people's fears and projections hinder the joy you feel in the moment as it unfolds.

Thank you for reading. Be good to yourself,

~ MerciLani