I'm sure that was a unique experience being all alone for such a long period of time. That probably had your mind in an altered state from what it is
used to. So now when you go back to read your notes it seems foreign to you, being back in your "normal" state of mind.
You will have to make a thread about your experiences when you get your notes compiled into the story. I'm sure many of us would find it very
Great answer-I never even thought about it like that.
I started posting in the survival section some of my experiences however no one is interested to find out that your going to suffer-especially at
first. Person have these ideas of SHTF events, everything breaks down and they go live in the woods happily ever after. That is not how it is. Most of
these hard core 'survivalist' would not make it 48 hours due to possession depression and social depravity from non interaction-not to mention any
real outdoor skills. So be it. I kind of knew that as no one wants their favorite fantasy injected with any reality.
The problem with the fear and loneliness essay is that it is so long and I have trouble relating it with anything current. As you said it was quite
possibly done from which my mind was in "an altered state from what it is used to". That fits very well. In some way I went into the project on all
the wrong terms. Like 99.999% of the population I was not born with any natural writing ability-a God given gift if you may, that so few have and
can't be taught. I. like everyone else, that includes anyone who writes for a living, for a news service, marketing in advertising or what ever
occupation, or those who struggle to be a creative writer just have to keep plugging along and hope for the best.
I had the idea that I could 'scare' that ability out me-and in so many ways I did. That is why the essay is so foreign to me now and why it seems so
much like fiction however I know it was all so real and death and I became very close companions-the days just before Christmas until the first week
of February when the weather finally broke and I knew then I was going to make it-or better said I became determined to make it.
I wrote a great deal about dreams and reality-what I called at the time-"injection, and the interpretation, of a lonely fear into an already
terminally sad state" The most brutally honest, and difficult to remember doing were done in a sordid kind of second to first person. Also, after an
ice storm right after the New Year, night and day kind of merged as it was so dangerous to venture far from the cabin as ice covered everything and if
I was going to die I wanted to do it in the cabin and not outside. I changed my mind later about that. As a result times, days, AM and PM are not real
There are about 10 pages of descriptive terms I called a list of euphoniums
Example: drift or drifting was short period of sleep....sessions were dreams or dreamlike states. a patch was a time period...chilled was
fright..abandonment and loneliness became reaching or reaching out....
" I drifted back up again after a session about the water tower we found again. Remember how it looked, like it just appeared and set foot around us-a
kindly four legged shiny monster, inviting as it was to climb" Again a period of a session in which a unhappy remembrance has been replace with a
short drift of unnatural joy as I have returned to my awakened misery to find a very frightening childhood memory has been replaced by a moment of
triumph that I know is a falsity. Chilled beyond belief by a wonderful remembrance..."
Here, a tragic events from my childhood-trying to climb that water tower that gave me the screaming horrors for months was replaced by a loving,
comforting dream about it. I was frightened, lonely and afraid at a height that was indiscernible at the time. Other that the essay and notes I have
little recollection except when I see some of those old time metal towers that carry high voltage power lines-the ones that look like walking steel
monsters tethered together-then I remember the dream I had.
Of the thousand or so tightly, small scripted pages over a hundred cover dream periods-that I don't remember much but I know happened. The replacement
of bad events in my life with dreams of pleasant, or at least benign sessions was a constant theme that I have never been able to explain.
I don't think this has anything to do with repression....all this was along time ago and memories fade. I have never suffered from any mental
disorders nor do they run in my family. The issue for me is the fact that bad memories were replaced with good remembrances which, as anyone can see
by reading it, frightened me to the outermost limits of my ability to cope at the time, simply because I couldn't understand why this was happening.
After the weather broke and my over all fear went down the good/bad twisting of reality stopped.
Why did it scare me so much?
edit on 13-6-2013 by spooky24 because: clarity