I have these body awarenesses of people who know how to camp, people who go camping.

And then in the midst of my environmental roofying, it becomes repeatedly and dangerously more apparent that I need to go camping in order to regain self-sufficiency and safety for my body.

But somehow although I was a child with massive family camping trips, there is no part of that massive family left who remembers how to go camping.

There is no part of that massive family left who I am in contact with who can recognize that they have what I need.

Or do they?

I’m not sure they even exist. To grasp at their existence in my brain leaves me with mostly nothing.

But increasingly, the anger and disorientation of camping solutions being unavailable becomes curious to me.

Why isn’t everyone else also angry?

They recognize in my words the privileges they would also like to have.

But they are too bruised and burdened to fight for them.

I don’t want to blame them for that.

And yet with our bodies dying, I struggle with it.