Every addict knows the feeling. Itching, tickling, scratching away at you. I need another fix. And it's been too long. I'm not picky any more, I'm willing to go for something less pure, willing to steal a little to get it. Steal a little time from classes; give up on that night out so that I can get up early just to see if the weather is good. I need to get into the mountains. I don't mind any more if it's climbing or running, skiing or just walking, but I need to get out.
But the next problem is just as bad: nobody understands your addiction. Just come out, don't bother this weekend, come on, wouldn't you rather be out with your friends? "Sure", I think. I'd rather be out with my friends. In the mountains. So you have to make new friends, friends who are addicts like you. And the cycle deepens. Soon there is no escape, it becomes normal, even mundane.
Getting my fix.
And when it becomes mundane, that's when it really gets bad. When last week's fix just isn't enough anymore. You need something harder, stronger, a richer experience. You have to push your limits, exhaust yourself, put yourself in harm's way. And you try to explain, but there are no words to describe the feeling; there is no logic to your actions.
And so nobody understands.
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Hey dave, hope Spain is still wicked fun, you missed a scorching house party, some climbers turned up, and my sister on true mental case form. Loved reading your last entry, ‘the addiction’. Cant wait to get back to the lakes in a few days.. going ice climbing hopefully then meeting up at duddon hut for the luumc trip. Hope ur keeping well and pushing the boundaries.. make the most of it : ) x x x