Hey everyone!
If you have ever visited this blog before,
you know that I am all about hiking and sleeping outdoors. Most of the time, I
do this with friends (and sometimes even with a rottweiler), and they make me
feel safe and secure, whatever the circumstances. Only once have I slept
outdoors alone and let me tell you, it was partly a horrifying experience. It
started out wonderfully; I drove to one of the islands nearby, parked my car
and hiked for about 30 minutes until I reached the shore. There, I found the
perfect spot to pitch my tent, and I spent the rest of the evening feeling like
Queen of the Cliffs, running around and enjoying the beautiful scenery as the
sun was slowly descending. As superior and unstoppable as I felt in daylight,
as miniscule and terrified I felt when darkness fell. I stayed in my tent,
suspicious of every single sound, convinced that someone was sneaking around
out there, just waiting to attack me. Not surprisingly, it took a long
time to fall asleep, but when I woke up to the bright sunlight the next day,
everything was perfect again. Of course, I’d had flashes of similar emotions in
the past, when hiking with friends, but I was always comforted by the thought
that I had company, who could protect me if something happened. And I had never
experienced the full extent of being afraid of the dark. There was not even a
real threat, but darkness itself posed as the villain. This experience taught
me like never before how things can change completely inside of you, once it
gets dark. Since then, I haven’t mustered up the courage to sleep alone again,
but I definitely see the need to analyze my feelings. I want to know why I am
so totally fearless in the dark when I have my friends with me and exactly what
changes when I am alone, and how I can work on getting better without risking
anything.
Firstly, let’s agree that being afraid IN
the dark when alone is not entirely unfounded, since there is nobody to protect
you or alert someone else if something should happen. I would be somewhat nervous
about hiking alone in daylight too, because I’m completely left to my own
devices with no-one else to rely on. It’s totally reasonable and these doubts
are valid. However, with the right preparation, and with someone always knowing
my whereabouts, hiking alone would be an option. I’ll come back to this later.
I’ve concluded that my being afraid OF the
dark stems from the fact that I am alone and there is nothing to resonate with my
worries. Darkness itself is not dangerous – obviously – but it’s so easy to imagine
scary things when you lack control and you don’t have anyone to talk to about it.
Part of that lack of control comes from disorientation. In the dark, you lose
the ability to make out shapes and forms, distance and direction. Obviously,
any sound will make you shiver, because you don’t know who is making it or
where it comes from.
On the other hand, as scared as I was that
day by the shore, all alone in my tent, I wasn’t seized by a crippling fear, and
I didn’t have a panic attack, as people with nyctophobia would. Other symptoms
of nyctophobia include difficulty swallowing, dry mouth, dizziness, excessive
sweating, nausea, vomiting and shortness of breath, none of which I experienced.
However, my heart started racing and I had a lot of catastrophic thoughts.
So how did I cope with my anxiety? I was determined not to pack up and leave. Listening to music has a very calming effect, so that’s what I did. This was especially effective, since it drowned out all the outdoor sounds that made me jittery and sparked my vivid imagination. Additionally, reassuring myself that nobody was out there to get me helped. Praying was another great source of comfort, allowing me to direct my thoughts to God, taking the pressure off myself. Something that helps when it’s not dark, is thinking rationally, about statistics. How often do we hear about attacks on people sleeping in tents? Not that very often. How many people with ill intent would seek out the very place that I am staying at? Not very many. How likely is it that someone who happens to be nearby would randomly attack me? Not very likely. Honestly, I should feel more afraid in my car, since statistically, there is a greater chance of being hurt when you're driving than when you're sleeping alone in nature. The next step is incorporating and remembering these facts when you're in your tent, in the darkness, all alone. It's probably not such an easy task, but if you don't try, you won't know. Only experience can guide you through the challenge.
I came across some great articles on coping with fear of hiking solo and sleeping alone. One of them - Overcoming the fear of hiking solo - points out the very important need to make the necessary preparations, as well as always letting someone else know your location. (It would have to be a person with very strong nerves, or someone who does not have a strong emotional attachment to you, since they would likely worry about you more than you worry about yourself) Another article - Sleeping alone in the woods while female - is both comforting and a little upsetting. Comforting, because it gives you many concrete tips on how to deal with the fears of hiking solo and sleeping alone in nature. Upsetting, because even the most experienced, hard core female hikers reveal that they still have an unnerving fear of sleeping alone, and that they have this battle each time they are hiking alone.
Clearly, I have made up my mind about sleeping alone, and I really want to try it in the not too distant future. What do you think? Is it safe for a woman to sleep outdoors alone, or should we abandon this idea altogether?
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