I am going to die 9,000 feet above sea level

If you set out to find your limits, limits shall you find. From the moment we left South Dakota I couldn’t shake this feeling I had of impending doom. We were headed to Colorado, one of the places I was most anxious about on our trip. I had been there as a young person and had a pretty memorable (traumatic) experience with High Altitude Sickness. It was a memory I couldn’t easily forget; but I thought to myself, what’s the worse that could happen? Well when you have anxiety, the worst can sometimes surprise even the most experienced host. 

My wife had very fond memories of time spent with family in Beaver Creek. She really wanted to go up there from where we were staying outside of Denver. The weekend was upon us and I knew this was the day we would have to go up there. My anxiety increased.

We climbed to 6,500ft. I told myself the shortness of breath and dizziness were all in my head - don’t be weak. You have anxiety Shane, this is what happens to people like you. That turned into self-hate speech. Oh, here we go again, can’t even take your wife up to Beaver Creek to see where she created wonderful memories with her family. This will be one more trip ruined because of your anxiety. So, my anxiety increased. 

Then there was a crash on the other side of the highway. Well, I had to google how long that would delay our return descent right? It added an hour to the trip. Now I thought, oh my god if my symptoms get worse or I have a panic attack and need emergency care, it will take us two hours to get back just from here. Let alone how long it will take if we keep going. Simultaneously the emasculating voice returned and reminded me of what a weak, scared, and pitiful man I was. So, the anxiety increased. 

We climbed past 8,000ft. The shortness of breath, lower SP02 levels, and decreased heart rate confirmed my previous irrational fears about my altitude - perfect. I began feeling an overwhelming sense of panic. If I had to equate it to a “real-life” situation, I would liken it to the fear you’d have if someone was trying to break into your house to murder you and you had no way to protect yourself. So, my anxiety increased. 

We climbed past 8,500ft and it was at this point that I knew I would lose all rational and cognitive function to the overwhelming sense of fear and anxiety that had highjacked my mind and body. I pulled off the road and began to hyperventilate and sporadically sob. I told myself to breathe, but that didn’t help. I remember thinking, I am going to die 9,000 ft above sea level.

While all this was going on I remember thinking that my wife had never really seen me this bad before. I was now also embarrassed and truthfully felt like less of a man. I have tried to hide the actual emotional outbursts from her. She had seen the regular symptoms over the years: irritability, mood swings, insomnia, and anxiousness, and these did sometimes get intense, but I could almost always “get myself under control” pretty quickly. I felt weak, I felt like I wasn’t the man she deserved. I felt like something was wrong with me. And all of this just made matters worse. So, the anxiety increased.

At this point, I had pulled off the highway and was exiting the car to try and regain control over my thoughts and feelings. My wife said we could go back, and that she was happy to drive. All I could think was that there was no way she would be able to help me if I actually passed out. In some way, I knew that was why I pulled over and got out. I thought that if a passerby saw me go down that they would come over and help. I remember thinking that a total stranger was better suited to help me than my loving wife. Now I really thought something was wrong with me.

Most of my stories end with some light at the end of the tunnel. We turned around and started our descent. I felt like garbage. I apologized for not being able to take my wife to Beaver Creek. Of course she said it was no big deal, but the apology wasn’t even probably for her. I felt like I couldn’t handle something, and we men are supposed to be able to handle everything. I felt like a coward. With every drop in elevation, I physically felt better, but inside I only felt worse. We finally made it back to Denver, back to safety in my mind.

As I write this now I know that 90% of my fear was created by anxiety. And maybe I even knew that up on the mountain in some small way. Sure, I did have a little shortness of breath and my oxygen levels were lower than normal, but that comes with increased altitudes. For the first time in a long time, I had a full-blown panic attack and it scared the life out of me.

Like I said in the beginning. If you set out to find your limits, limits you shall find. But you know me. I am writing this blog not just for myself, but for others who live with or love someone with anxiety. 

This story isn’t over. This will not be another “traumatic memory” that I store away and allow to control my life at some future time. I now know that I didn’t do anything wrong up on that mountain. We all have limits and boundaries that can scare us, hold us back, and ultimately diminish the life we are meant to live. It’s not about never feeling that way, it’s about what you do after you experience fear that really matters. 

What am I going to do now? I am going to find a way back onto that mountain and to a high elevation. But here’s the thing. I’m not doing this because I have something to prove, but rather, because fear is no way to live. Limits and boundaries are OK. There’s nothing wrong with knowing there is something you do not want to do. I just can’t avoid things in my life that I would otherwise like to enjoy simply because I’m afraid. 

I thought I was going to die 9,000 feet above sea level. I didn’t and if you’re reading this and going through your own battle, know that you will be OK as well. 

Your Friend,

The Brazen Traveler