Resting Place

“Could you bring some rope?”

A request for a length of rope from a friend in a psychiatric facility is one I would usually not accommodate. Especially when that friend is in the facility following a suicide attempt. It falls into the same category as bringing weapons into hospitals. You just don’t do it.

In this case, however, it seemed like a sensible thing to do because we were going on an outing. My friend had spent close to two months in the woods in an attempt to starve himself to death. Thankfully his effort failed. Hikers rescued him after he fell into a river in a delirious state. Our little outing on this sunny Sunday in December was an endeavor to retrieve his wallet and other belongings he said were in a plastic bag close to his former camping spot. He told me the rope might be necessary in order to repel down a steep embankment.

I stopped at a hardware store on my way to the hospital bought 20’ of rope (A 20’ drop-off was the maximum I was willing to face) and I picked up my friend who signed out with me for the afternoon. We drove up into a mountainous wooded area and parked where the road ended. It was a beautiful afternoon. The sun cut bands of light onto the mossy forest floor through the towering evergreens. As we walked through this soft quiet canopy I listened as my friend told me of his months in the forest. How he had found a large corrugated pipe where he created a “nest” for himself. Even in that “determined to die” state he had fashioned himself a space to exist. A space that was his. A home.

We finally reached the steep drop and it was over 20’. More like 100’. We could’ve slid our way down but our chances of getting back up seemed unlikely so our mission was aborted. For me it was never about retrieving a wallet. It was about spending time with a friend and being a part of his journey from the forest. I'm glad he's making his way back.