Operational Exhaustion

You've seen pictures of the most beautiful glacial lake in the most beautiful valley you can imagine. No, more beautiful than your imagination was capable of. You've talked to people who have been there and they've said the experience changed them forever. So you decide to go. You make the choice to buy and gather up supplies, pack it all up, and strap it to your back. And you go.

The hike is easy enough at first and you're excited to go. There are minor annoyances - you get a rock in your shoe, you get some mosquito bites - but you know it's oh so worth it. Your excitement builds as you climb into the crisp mountain air. You see stunning waterfalls that take your breath away.

But the annoyances keep coming. You get blisters on your feet and every step starts to hurt. You get more and more mosquito bites. Then you encounter a rattlesnake. You get past it, but it reminds you that people warned you about dangers along the way - mountain lions and spiders and bears. You knew about those, but it didn't really register. Now you worry that every step into the unknown could be your last.

Your backpack seems to get heavier and heavier. The sights and smells are incredible, but it's getting harder and harder to take each step. You have to stop and take a break. You have to tend to your blisters and put on bug spray. You have to catch your breath and eat a good meal. You can't keep hiking non-stop.

That's where I feel I am right now. I need to take a breather. Not a long one, just this weekend, but I'm exhausted. All the little irritations have accumulated, all the exertion has gotten to be too much.

So fuck it. I'm not bothering with makeup, I'm not bothering to look good, I'm not trying to pass, and I'm not interacting with people in real life, I'm not practicing my voice. I need to sit by the side of the trail and catch my breath.

I can still see the beautiful sights where I sit, smell the smells, hear the sounds. I can still play with my boobs. I still got called ma'am while wearing a T-shirt, shorts, no bra, and no makeup. But I need a breather from time to time.

The "sir"s, the looks, the goddamn shaving, the straining my voice, the personal care, they're all little things, but they build up. I just need time to de-stress.

At times like this, I wonder why I inflicted the journey on myself. I wonder why I decided to strap that backpack on and do this climb. And here's where the analogy fails. I was miserable and despairing before I took this journey. As much work as it is, it's less terrible than sitting stagnant, denying who I am, and dying with terrible regret. I have to take this journey. That lake is where I belong and I can't be whole until I reach it.

I just get exhausted sometimes.