Getting back to climbing after big fall + PTSD tips

Becca Joy Steinbrecher wrote:

Someone recently responded to the relay of my experience: "Everyone has a hard life, get over it". -_- Not forgetting that.. A lot of victim blaming rhetoric, "You have a victimhood mentality, you're not the victim get over it" just a few months after my brush with death while I was still in the height of my PT rehab. The main patient in a big accident kinda is a victim.. I've had some deep betrayal that's probably added its own trauma/complexity to this. Performative care from people turning to betrayal and attacking just a few weeks after. People over-involving themselves in media around my trauma and more fun goodies.. Don't worry, I have plenty of support otherwise, professional + friends/family.

I know I’m late to the party here but thought I would throw in my 2 cents:

Last year I was involved in a climbing accident that claimed the life of my great friend and climbing partner Bob. I can vouch for the effectiveness of EMDR in this regard.

We surround ourselves with all kinds of people in our lives… but friendships are often defined years later by a friends ability to stick around when things get bad/complicated. We often don’t know for sure what people value us for until circumstance makes it impossible for us to provide it for them anymore. I’m very sorry for peoples inability to empathize with your situation… 

I applaud your resolve… I have personally decided to never climb again… but have been revisiting this particular forum as a tool in my own recovery. Keep up the good fight !

George M wrote:

this stood out to me, because it seems like "granny climber" is pejorative towards yourself. My advice is, don't let the mainstream ethos of pushing grades define what climbing means to YOU. You've decided you love climbing enough to continue doing it, so allow yourself to choose your own battles and not feel pressured to fight the battles that others think you should fight. If getting on lead on "easy" terrain (or whatever goal is right for YOU) is a battle that YOU've decided is worth fighting, mental or physical or both, that doesn't make you a "granny" or "soft." It gives you your own language in which to commune with the mountain, which is now truly personal, much more so than the language of chasing grades by default. 

This resonates.

Becca, may I ask a sincere, gentle inquiry?

Why do you climb? What compels you to pursue it?

I don't feel all that qualified to offer any formal advice or guidance, but I can relate to the battles with traumatic memories, anxiety, etc. I think most folks who obsessively fall in love with climbing and big mountain adventures are at some point confronted with experiences that lead to having to face those internal battles.

I don't know if it's fair for me to claim to have self-diagnosed cPTSD, but I do, as I've had a number of stressful/upsetting/traumatic experiences as a nearly direct result of my obsession with climbing and mountaineering - seeing numerous people over the years take ground falls and severe-injury producing whippers... assisting in coordinating a helicopter rescue for a broken leg at 10,000 feet on Mt Stuart in the Cascades....  losing close climbing friends to battles with mental illness... losing community friends and role models to accidents... I know those don't quite compare to significant personal injuries as a result of taking a big destructive fall oneself. But I am a pretty sensitive and empathetic person with a keen eye for systematic cause-and-effect dynamics, so witnessing first hand when others take wild risks and end up injured is honestly pretty affecting to me. It's one of the things that has made me reluctant to pursue a medical career, even though I think it's one of the most fascinating, admirable, and meaningful careers one can have.

As for my own injuries and bodily traumas, obsessive rock climbing + depression and not taking good enough care of myself + insufficient medical care for long term issues led to me developing a life-threatening Thoracic Outlet Syndrome and DVT blood clot running from my neck to my elbow. Had emergency surgical irrigation of the vein when it got scary painful, and ended up having to have my 1st thoracic rib surgically resected (cut out) eventually when blood thinners weren't sufficient and my entire medial vein re-occluded. That vein no longer exists - all my blood flow returning on my chest from the right arm returns via collateral veins. I'm reminded of the TOS/DVT every time I look in a mirror shirtless and see my veins bulging through the skin of my shoulder. In my estimation, if I am fortunate enough to live a full life and die of old-age and "complications", as I naturally grow older and more frail, the blood flow issues in my right arm are likely going to be the aforementioned fatal "complications". So it goes.

Adding to the difficulties of physical/mental/emotional healing, proper medical care for things like physical check-ups and mental health care just hasn't been in the budget for a while now, especially since the costs of the emergency vascular surgery and followup ortho surgery, some of which were entirely out of pocket. 

(Insurance and the U.S. healthcare system... ugh... Best I not tangent off on that rant...)

That's my longwinded way of saying - those experiences have repeatedly forced me to confront the question of "Why (the f--k ) am I doing this, risking injury to crank my way up steep cliffs and unforgiving mountains? Why don't I just go join a Rec Adult Soccer League or pick up a golf habit or move to San Diego and become a beach volleyball fanatic?"

So I did. I quit climbing for a while. Played soccer. Went from completely helpless at golf to being a bogey golfer (with a hole-in-one on my record already, thank you very much!). Began mentoring young fencers - I'm past my prime and personal competitive goals. Got hooked on obsessively playing disc golf. Studied some chess. Bought a guitar and a book on music theory. etc etc.

The thing is, even while enjoying these leisurely, fairly safe hobbies (all of which are still part of my life), and even while going climbing would provoke an intense sense of anxiety and discomfort in me that might last for days, I still sought it out, dreaming of a full recovery and fearless 5.13r/x mega alpine ascents.

I've come to accept that loving climbing and mountaineering adventures is just baked into my soul. So, the work required to rediscover a sense of calm and confidence while on the sharp end is something that feels challenging but worthwhile - just like it did when I first started leading. 

But the times I stepped away from climbing and questioned why I was compelled to embrace it's inherent risks - those times of 'reflection from a distance' helped me liberate myself from a compulsive/obsessive pursuit of climbing stronger/harder/bigger/better, and allowed me to realize that I love it because it lights up my soul in so many ways. The fear and danger serves as a reminder for me that big achievements don't come easy - but that's also tempered with the perspective that some big achievements just aren't worth the risk (or obsessive focus) they would require to pursue.

All that has helped me get back on the sharp end, feel ok about being scared on a 5.10, backing off and enjoying "Granny Climbing" and embracing the possibly long road and intermittent pursuit of regaining strength and confidence while runout on lead. I try to embrace the mental challenge as just another fun and welcome opportunity to regrow strength and find new strength. I may have a 5.12 capable body (ok 5.10+, if we're being honest), but the game right now is to enjoy the process of redeveloping my 5.12 mind. For me, right now, that means finding gainful employment, reducing my daily stress loads, getting good food and sleep (currently abysmal), and progressively making strides to be more comfortable in controlled-risk climbing experiences.

And I have no desire to redevelop an interest in being the boldest climber out there, free solo-ing 5.14c, and beating Honnold's clocked solo time up Freerider. Those games just don't interest me anymore. I even find them mildly upsetting and slightly repulsive. 

So yeah. Sorry for the long winded thought-vomit. Was honestly intending to just play spectator, reading through this thread. But the notion of "Why not just give up the game? What's Becca's raison d'etre for climbing?" kept popping into my mind, especially given your "Granny Climber" comment.

Seems George M picked up on the same vibes and his bit about defining your own meaningfulness in your climbing last-strawed my camel-back of resisting the urge to chime in and ask you:

After you experienced and survived some of the worst trauma that a rock-climber can experience, why do you want to return to climbing? What is it that you love about it that has you willing to reinvite the risk?

Not necessarily asking for a direct, open answer from you. We're all obsessive climbers here, yeah? More or less? Everyone has their reasons. And we all kind of get it, the "I can't not!". Climbing is majestic and primal and incredible. If you know, you know. All that stuff.

But while pursuing your question of "How do I get it back, my comfort and courage while taking potentially fatal or life altering risks?", if you haven't arrived at a strong and clear and comfortable answer to the question "Why do I want to get back into it? What rewards do I seek amidst all the risk?", I think that's a really important question to examine and a powerful starting point or mid-process catalyst for unlocking some relief.

Otherwise - as a stats and data-minded guy, I find it helpful in alleviating my anxiety and fear to try and be hyper-rational about my risk assessment calculations, and as quantitative as possible - even in predominantly qualitative assessments, e.g. "I feel 30% more emotional today than on a normal day - I will only top-rope today."

And drawing strong personal boundaries on who I will and won't climb with (or be vulnerable about my feelings and anxieties with) has also been massively important. Anyone who doesn't put your physical and mental/emotional welfare above their personal sending goals is not someone who deserves your belay. These days, I have such disdain for the "Don't be a wuss! Just go for it!" mentality, and such respect for people who are able to calmly and confidently state "I'm not willing to take that risk." and ignore social pressure or compulsive goal-pursuing and grade-chasing.

Reflecting, meditating, and exploring my feelings in structured writing and journaling also seems to help sort through the trauma angst. That's part of the reason I sometimes compose these 7000+ character 1-hour effort forum comments.

So. Yeah. Long winded. Sorry.

But yeah.

Summarily, 

Becca, Why do you climb?

Getting old is an eye opener.. you either find a way to enjoy climbing easier safer climbs or you give up....  This kind of relates to the folks recovering from trauma.. part of getting old is you will have life experiences that will make you reevaluate your climbing while your body and climbing abilities deteriorate.. 

If you're here for attention, you're already through.

If you're here for the soul, you still gotta long ways to go.