Everything is exactly the same- but nothing is

There aren't a lot of blog posts dealing with getting off trail.  

I mean there are thousands of blog posts announcing getting off trail, and how sad it is, and how they are proud of themselves for what they did accomplish or that they are #blessed just to have had the opportunity. 

But what about this feeling right now. The "I've been back at my old job for 6 months and I still haven't figured out how to explain what happened" blogs or the "all my friends are summiting and here I am wishing I were there but knowing that getting off was the right thing but gosh it still kind of hurts my soul" blog post or the "my tendonitis still won't go away and I've been stuck on the couch and feel like if I can't hike again soon I might suffocate on my own misery" blog posts. I guess those ones aren't as fun to read. They aren't as fun to write either.  

Maybe I got off trail and continued to have amazing adventures, visiting friends, going camping, starting life over again like a big giant reset button. But a part of it all feels hollow for not finishing.  

I'll be honest, it sucks to see your friends finish. It sucks to see them conquer mountains and celebrate victories. It sucks even knowing the realities of what their day to day life is like, and how challenging it is. It sucks feeling left behind.  

Which is not to say I'm not over the moon happy for them, or any less proud than a mother hen. It's just that twinge of jealousy shades those emotions.

But. I will say this: I'm figuring it out. I'm beyond grateful for the experience I had and became a whole new and improved person from my hike.  

Mans maybe someday I will set out to hike again. Eric has his eyes on the PCT in five years. I think I could see that happening for both of us.