The Remedy

April 4th, 2015

I don’t know what happened! One second I was walking, the next I’m here...wherever here is. I was deep in thought. I wasn’t paying attention. I tried going back the way I came, but I couldn’t find the trail. I tried every direction. I panicked, and screamed for help. Only my echo came back. That was this morning. I don’t know what else to do. I’m only writing now because I’ve been trained to write down all my stupid feelings. And, at this moment I’m having a lot of them. For one, I’m a massive idiot. I’ve felt that for some time, but this is unbearable. I hate myself for being so stupid! I’m terrified and lost. I think I might be having an anxiety attack. I can’t catch my breath, everything is hazy. What do I do?

April 5th, 2015

I’ve never been afraid of the dark, but right now, I’m afraid of what’s in the dark with me. I thought to bring this diary but not a flashlight. Now I’m alone and utterly hopeless. I hardly have anything with me. I’m not prepared for this!

April 6th, 2015

What if I die out here? A week ago I’d have welcomed it from the safety of my sofa. But now I yearn to lay there safe and satisfied. It seems every step I take puts me further from my camp and home.

April 7th, 2015

It’s been three days since I lost my way. I’ve made a hut out of branches and foliage. The rain comes in and soaks my clothes though. I don’t remember the last time I had dry socks. My hands are numb from the wind, and I can barely move my fingers. I have scabs on my heels, and every time I peel off a sock, it rips one open. So I’ve kept my boots on. Oh, and I woke up to a giant spider crawling on me. He probably thought I was a rock since my body was as cold as the ground, and just as wet. That was fun. I’m starving too. I’ve never gone this long without food. I’m dizzy and worried.

April 8th, 2015

It seems I’ll never have dry clothes again. All the wood here is damp. There’s nothing usable to start a fire. But it doesn’t matter, because I can’t even strike the lighter with my frozen hands. The crappy hut collapsed, and now I’m sleeping under a shrub. But I have some good news. The flat forest has shifted since I began walking and I can see a stone summit in the distance. Tomorrow I’ll hike up to check out the terrain. I’m too spent for that today.

April 9th, 2015

What is happening to me? I was almost to the top of the summit when I tripped on something and tore my knee open. It was from a rusty ammo box stuck in the ground. I dug it out and opened it. There was a stack of cash in the box! Twenty thousand dollars! But why now? Why here? Is this a sign that I’m meant to be found, so I can live happily ever after? The irony of it! I just found a ton of money that I can’t use, because I can’t find anyone or anything to spend it on! It’s not like I can eat it. But someone must have put it there, right? Maybe others have been here too, or will be. Do I assume someone is coming back for the money and wait here to be rescued? What if a drug lord hid it and wants it back at any cost? I could die waiting to find out. It’s too exposed to make shelter here. The winds are icy and my face and lips are chapped. Who knows how long it might be before someone comes. I still have to find food and real shelter. My husband knows I’m missing now as well. I need to get to a large body of water and follow it to civilization. Any rescue team would think to check the river first. I can see one at the base of the mountain. That’s probably my best chance. But first, I have to stop the bleeding on my knee and find a crutch of some kind.

April 10th, 2015

I stuck the money in my backpack and hobbled toward the river. I set up camp near the waterfall so I could rest today. My legs and knee are screaming for respite, and my stomach has been growling for days. I’m weak. The river moves pretty fast in most places, but near the shore it’s calm. I’m hoping to catch something. I’ll try to trap fish by funneling them towards the shore with some sticks stuck in the shallow bottom. They’ll be able to swim into the pool, but not out. Like a fence. I’ve only seen this done on television and I don’t know if it’ll work. Wish me luck dear diary.

April 11th, 2015

I didn’t catch anything. I can feel my ribs and hipbones now. My pants are looser too. It’s scary how quickly I’m loosing weight. Every time I take a step my heels scrape the inside of my boots. My socks are soaked in blood and the walking stick I found doesn’t help much. I need to be found soon.

April 12th, 2015

I made a huge mistake last night! I was so exhausted that I didn’t care to keep the fire going. I let it go out completely. Sleeping for the first time in days, I was ripped from my dream to a paralyzing reality. A loud huff and heavy footsteps crushed the ground around the shelter I’d made. I knew what it was the second I woke. Adrenaline coursed through my veins. With hitching breath I desperately hoped it would go away. It grunted and snarled as it examined everything, trapping me in a teepee of twigs. It stopped behind me and snorted through the worthless branches. The hairs on my neck and arms stood up. l felt its hot breath on my skin. I was frozen in fear. When it broke through some of the sticks, I knew I had to do something, or I would die. Everything in me screamed to stay still but I forced myself to reach for my pot and axe. I pounded as loud as possible until it withdrew, and disappeared into the dark. It took me a while to breathe steadily again, though I’m writing with shaking hands now. I don’t think I’ll sleep anymore tonight.

April 13th, 2015

Nine days since I lost my way. Six days since I was supposed to return home. I’m afraid that this little black book, and twenty thousand random dollars will be all that’s left of me. I know the statistics. After three days they’re looking for a body. I haven’t eaten anything since the morning I got lost, and every step I take is painful. But I have water, and sometimes fire, and I’m slowly making my way downstream. I don’t know how much longer I can do this, but I’m alive.

April 14th, 2015

I heard a helicopter. I’m positive they didn’t see me, since I was under the forest canopy. I ran as fast as I could manage, but it was already gone. My infected heels have given me a fever, and I have trouble walking straight most of the time. I’m bitterly cold and can’t stop shaking. I need to be found, or find someone soon. I miss my family and I’m scared I’ll never make it home again.

April 17th, 2015

I’ve been laying here for days. I can’t go any further. I get winded just using the bathroom, and I go in and of consciousness. The fire went out a long time ago and I don’t have energy to find more wood. Besides, it’s raining again. My fever is high, and I can barely hold this pen. I know I wanted to die. But now, I just want to live.

April 18th, 2015

I...can’t.

April 20th, 2015

If you’re reading this, it’s because you found my diary. You started at the beginning. You know what a crappy wife I’ve been, all the arguments, and that I’m not winning any mother of the year award. You know that I tried hurting myself, and that’s why I was in therapy, and ultimately, why I was assigned this diary. But I want to say I’m sorry to my family. I should have stayed home. I should have been more prepared for this “nature therapy” idea of mine. I thought that if I came out here, in the quiet, away from people, all those nasty thoughts would go away. I wanted to clear my head. I clung to an idea of maybe. Maybe things would work out. Maybe things would just go away. Maybe I’ll fix this on my own. But I should have chosen a populated campground instead of a desolate mountain. I should have focused on the trail, instead of wallowing in self pity. I should have done so many things differently. I’m so sorry. I love you all.

April 22nd, 2015

This is the end. To my husband and kids, please know that I have fiercely loved you guys. I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through and all the mistakes I’ve made. I know when I was home, I wasn’t really there. I’m sorry for allowing myself to be absent and making you worry. But you’re here with me in this hospital, and I’ll never leave you again. I’ve learned to survive anything. To come back from it all. Back from the mountain, and back from the dark place I’ve been in my mind. I got a second chance, someone else should too. So I’m donating the twenty thousand dollars to suicide prevention. Thoughts like mine attack all types of people. Even a housewife with a family full of love. We all need a hands up once in a while. I’m willing to give two.