The last time I went camping was on a road trip from a friend's wedding the UP down to my place in Lansing, with the asshole ex boyfriend, the summer after I finished my MSc, before I started my PhD.
A bunch of dubious-to-bad shit happened including him getting drunk and saying thinking about me leaving made him want to kill himself, telling me I was the most important thing in his life and that me wanting to do interesting work was bad because "all you care about is work, you don't care about me/us/the relationship/etc," and assorted other unpleasantness.
So, because brains, the whole process of getting ready to go has been...fraught. It sucks that something I have liked doing since I was a teenager is now hard and stressful. It sucks that I'm constantly expecting to get yelled at if something goes wrong, or if something unexpected happens. It sucks that I can't actually plan properly because my brain shunts off track when I try.
Unfortunately, as my therapist tells me repeatedly, the only way to get past this stuff is to go through it. I have to actually have the feelings and deal with them and do the thing anyway, there's no cheat code or workaround. Thankfully, Lora is patient and understanding and good at planning things and will give me hugs while we make grocery lists and I both try not to freak out about groceries and try not to beat myself up for omg you are freaking out about a grocery list what even is your malfunction. And once we get there, I think (and hope) it will be good. We will be out in nature. There will be trees. There will not be any temper tantrums.
And now we are going. See, brain, we're fine. We'll continue being fine.