Life Threatening

I went paddling on a nearby, famous for around here, creek.   Some of the rapids on this water can have severe consequences.  All of the water I have paddled to this point has been relatively safe, in that, if one turns over or swims (has to exit their boat), the biggest threat is some rocks to the head or body.  While that may sound dangerous, helmets and manliness prevent any real danger from being presented.  This creek, however, will separate shoulders, break noses, and tear up someone who doesn't respect it.  I knew this coming in.  

Before I entered some of the major rapids, another paddler in my group told me how to proceed, etc.  I went over a 10 foot waterfall without being afraid.  I went down huge rapids that wreak havoc on boaters with much more experience or equipment than me, without being afraid.  On one occasion I was in a very, very dangerous position, literally barely balancing on the edge of a scary turn of events.  When I escape unscathed (and rather stylishly, might I add), the guy with me, who basically helped found the sport in the area (he's so good, he ran the creek at midnight), told me he had never seen anyone do anything like that in that particular rapid.  I distinctly remember sitting and looking at him while I was being retained by the hole, and him yelling at me to get the fuck out of there, and get ready to catch a rope.  I wasn't scared.

I walked around one rapid, as I knew that I was not ready for it, and the consequences were too serious for me to try to luck my way out of.  I wasn't scared of the rapid, did not feel any sympathetic nervous responses, I just knew I was going to portage.  All of these very dangerous events, and nothing evoked a true, primal fear from me.  That concerns me.

I went to the counselor for my second session a day or two before the paddle.  She started to piss me off when she continued asking, "What would make you feel better?" 

"If I knew what I could do to improve my state of mind, I would do it."

"Well, perhaps I'm asking the question wrong.  How will you know when you do feel better?"

"I will know I am better when I no longer feel this way."

That conversation took 30 minutes.  This woman had to get a doctorate to fucking ask me these questions? I am extremely impatient for her kid-gloving me around when I am paying for her to ask me and tell me things I already told her, and when I have spent the last 10 months inside my own head, to no avail, only to come to a professional who cannot seem to do a better job than I can.  Jesus tittyfucking Christ.  My life is wasting away.  Every day I spend in this half-state of being is a day I cannot recover, a day that I just used up resources and expelled carbon.  The creek did not scare me.  The fact that I was so numb to it's threats, and that the fucking therapist won't move the fuck on and help me while I spend day after day trying to escape the overwhelming dread of a life wasted on repetitiveness and liminal bullshit, scares me.  It keeps me up at night.  All the while I just wonder whether I will ever feel better, whether anything can help me, or whether I need to just go to my MD and ask him for some SSRI's and Viagara.  At least then I will be able to act like I'm having a good time.  

All of this ranting to express my dread of a hopeless future, and a dead life.  That's what it is now, just a life of dying, daily.