Swearing, yes. Screaming and carrying on, no. Maybe heâd promise a kiss for each leap. I relive one of Jasonâs kisses with each jump and itâs easier. My mind still doubts and questions but the kisses confuse it.
Ed gave me confidence and the quiet support I needed, yet I have no strong attraction to him. Life is strange.
With concerted effort I make it to lunchâa long way behind everyone else, but I get there. No one makes any awful comments but I still feel like a fool.
I survive the day and learn that I have no faith in myself.
How many times will I have to learn it and hear it before I turn it around and believe in myself? Jason said he believed in me but how can he when he doesnât know me?
Towards the end of our long trip, another day brings more of my worst thoughts to keep me company. The mountain slope before us is different to every other mountain weâve climbed. Itâs covered by pieces of shale, flat rock created from mud laid down over years and baked hard. Itâs smooth and slippery. Jagged pieces poke out all over the entire mountain-sized hill. Itâs like thousands of glass shards poking out of plasticine. The slope must be close to a forty degree angle, so not something we can walk straight down. We plan to attack it as if traversing a ski slope. Weâll angle across the hill on a slightly downward trajectory for about forty metres and then cut back on a similar angleâeffectively making a zigzag down the mountainside. This is a solo pursuit. Each person does a segment before the next person starts, so thereâs minimal chance of a slide taking everyone out. Shale moves underneath each footfall. My ankle twists and turns with the uncertain footing. Itâs slow and painstaking.
For me, the hardest part of this journey is being alone. At random moments you can make a joke or shout to someone, but for the most part your own guts and mindset have to get you down the mountain. My mind is quite opposed to my guts.
I elect to go last because Iâm the slowest and donât want to feel like Iâm holding anyone up. Thereâs a well trod path for me to follow but that doesnât make the journey any easier. I donât know how far it is because you canât see the bottom from the top, but it takes us the best part of a day to traverse this mountain.
I spend a whole day with only my thoughts to keep me company while trying not to think about falling, being hungry, my ankles hurting, my knees quivering and thigh muscles screaming. I try to think positively to get down this bloody hill but my mind is full of my lack of self-belief. I know Iâm not the most confident person, but until this trip I had never seen it as a problem.
To come on this trip, I wrote an application detailing my experience and making a claim to attend. I never believed Iâd be chosen to participate in such a trip. My lack of self-confidence means I didnât dream of successâbut it didnât stop my hope. Did that matter? I donât think so because it didnât stop me achieving.
One segment of the mountain from hell is done and Iâm still alive.
I didnât expect to achieve much at school, academically or socially. I had friends and did enough to get to uni. No great achievements but enough. I was a member of many sporting teams but I wasnât terribly good at anything. A support player, not a star. I put those things down to talent, not self-confidence.
I remember doing a quiz at school to work out what I could do afterwards career-wise. The results indicated I could do anything I set my mind to. And if I didnât set my mind to it? If I thought I might fail before I started, what then? Could I have done more than I have? Could I achieve great things?
I still donât know. But the next segment of this hell hill is complete.
And what about with guys? Iâve never achieved there. Is that because I havenât put my mind to it?
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