Risky Behaviour

Both my best friend and I experienced adrenaline rushes last week while exploring the rugged coast of Durrell in our lovely province of Newfoundland and Labrador. We are blessed with beautiful scenery and majestic ocean views; to her, they are scenic, something to enjoy looking at and take pictures of; to me, they are adventure, they call out to me to conquer; my husband, sees them as a little of both. Truth be told, he is more of a just look at and take pictures type now; although, we first started dating out of a common interest in rock climbing. Over the years he has become more subdued and often cringes at my need to climb a rock face or do cartwheels on fallen down trees I like to call “balance beam trees”. His stress over my actions has kept me grounded on many occasions and his concern for my safety while outdoors in the wilderness has limited the risk I take. He will still rock climb but only if we have climbing safety gear with us. The spontaneity of seeing a climb and just doing it does not exist in him… it does in me but like I said, I respect him enough to ignore it on most occasions. Last week while he was not with us I took the opportunity to just climb when I felt the urge.

We were iceberg watching and thought we saw a seal on the ice pans. I ended up on top of a cliff trying to confirm the seal siting; turned out, it wasn’t a seal after all but when I looked to the right of where I was standing there was a beautiful cliff with an easy climb down to a small berg which lead me out of site from both my best friend and her husband. I had to go, knowing Jason wasn’t there to stop me I gave in to my need for a little risky exploration. The descend to the rugged bottom to be close enough to touch the small berg or large ice pan wasn’t the scary part though; it was the view when I looked a little to the right again which presented a very short easy climb around the side of the cliff which really excited me. It was a short easy climb with cracks that provided a pretty straight line with holds for both my feet and hands. Besides those cracks though, there was nowhere else to hold on or step on for support; so if something went wrong I would end up in the cold Atlantic Ocean crashing on top of pack ice. I sat there peacefully enjoying the view, looking at the climb, smiling as I thought about how much fun the rush would be and how proud I would feel after I did it. I honestly stood up, just to walk back up and join my friends …but I had to reach up and check out the depth of the cracks…. they were really deep, my whole hand and half my foot would fit, such an easy climb…. albeit, in a dangerous spot. Something took over then and I just did it; no more contemplating, no more visualizing, just reach your hands up to the lower hold, pull and reach again to get one hand in the top crack, climb your feet up. put your other hand in the top crack and stand sturdy on the side of the cliff with two hands and two feet snug in the cracks…. then just walk horizontally around the cliff face for about 10-12 feet….. there was no rush while I was doing it…. just calm, focused determined peace as I planned and checked every move, as I recognized the risk the depth may narrow as I climbed. The rush came when I was done and looked back …. Wow, I screamed, I LOLed and kept repeating OMG! My heart was pounding and I loved that feeling of pure joy!!!! Then when I looked to the right, way up on the cliff, I could see my friend’s husband shaking his head…. I couldn’t hear him, the sound from the ocean and ice was too loud. There was a large flat rocking ice pan just about a foot from me that I really wanted to lie on and feel the back and forth with the waves. I looked up at him as I reached out and touched it with my foot…. he just shook his head “NO” very slowly over and over. I could tell he was yelling out to my friend and assumed they had been looking for me since they lost site of me. Again, I couldn’t hear them from down there but I could tell from her body language, my best friend was not as impressed as I was with my climbing skills…. or actually with my bravery as it didn’t take much skill to walk the deep cracks. I obviously gave up on the ice pan rocking chair and ascended to the top to console my friends and put them at ease. Her husband, also one of my best friends, understands me enough to know, that was me and there wasn’t much he could say. I was sooo excited…. telling him how good it felt once I was close enough for him to hear, asking him if he saw the actual climb, telling him my heart was racing etc etc. He wasn’t saying much, a little smile and a few words then a nod as he gestured toward his angry wife; he knew I had it coming once I caught up to her. She didn’t wait for me to get back up…  she had fled the scene and returned to our parked car once she saw I was ok….. as I started with… we both had adrenaline rushes…. me because I felt so alive and her because she thought I was no longer alive. I got quite the tongue lashing and about twenty minutes after I got “Jesus Joanne, don’t ever do that again, my heart is still not back in my chest” and I thought to myself, I wouldn’t dare say it out loud…. mine either but I love that feeling.  

“The term adrenaline junkie only tells part of the physiological story. High-risk experiences cause the body’s adrenal glands to release adrenaline, resulting in an intense rush. Heart rate and blood pressure surge and metabolism spikes. Facing extreme risk also causes the brain to flood with dopamine, producing a high that exceeds that of any drug.” Justinpeck.com/blog Feb. 2017, Mental Disorders and “Adrenaline Junkies”

When first trying to understand Christopher’s addiction I wasted a lot of time analyzing behaviors, blaming myself, talking about values, wondering what went wrong, did he experience some childhood trauma I wasn’t aware of etc etc etc. As time went on and we learned more, we focused on the physiological side of addiction, understanding the chemistry and mind/body connection.

In the story above I am Christopher and my friend is me and we felt those intense rushes and racing heart beats over and over again for almost a decade….. him from elation and pleasure which made him feel more alive and me from worry and stress which made me fear he was going to die. Looking at addiction in this way and understanding the intense physiological effects has helped in our recovery as a family.  

… but just so you don’t think my best friend is “square” …. to end, I’ve included a video which shows her encouraging what my husband seen as risky behaviour earlier in the day (not risky at all though!) …. she also doesn’t mind me doing cartwheels on “balance beam trees” in the woods…. actually, I’m pretty sure if she had the same physical skills I’ve acquired from years of gymnastics training, she would be right there with me in a lot of my risky exploration…. as when the rush is from something like getting on a crazy carpet and sliding down a steep snow/ice covered road or sliding out of a narrow trail at speeds too high to steer properly and nowhere to go but in to large trees …. she usually fights to go first! Oh… and I did get to rock on an ice pan with the waves after…but in a much safer place close to shore.

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