Healing

 I haven't blogged in so long. It was very hard after I lost my grandma. She was the glue that held the family together. I miss her everyday. I'm so blessed that I finally feel her presence with me when I go out to subsist in our favorite places. I also feel her presence knowing she would be proud of me continuing what she practiced (sharing with others in the community). She had the sweetest heart and always thought of those who had less than others. She would have so many presents to wrap at Christmas time because she didn't want kids to go without. She also couldn't resist donating to charities. I couldn't even count how many charities sent her mail because she sent money every year. It is because of her and my mom that I have learned that it is important to help others. 

Lately, I have been really trying to understand how our people have become so disconnected from one another. We have always been a collectivist culture. Our people depended upon one another to survive. Lately, we have not been as intertwined as we should be and our children are feeling the impact. Our children are the future and they need guidance. We need to be setting them up for success and help them figure out how they will contribute to our society. As collectivists, we all have a duty to perform. There is no laziness allowed. Our ancestors didn't play video games to survive. They walked by foot for weeks to trade furs for food. Everyone had a purpose. Everyone had a role to play. We need to remember the strength of our ancestors and pass it on to our children. Laziness was never a cultural value. Survival was the top of the list. To survive as a community, we need to come together and raise our children to know what our ancestors endured and how we can heal from the traumas that passed generation to generation.

If you have children, tell them that you love them and that you believe in them. If you don't have children, tell other peoples' kids the same. Tell them that the sky is the limit. Everyone has a place on this Earth. Everyone has a mission. Everyone has a duty to fulfill. How are you contributing to you hometown? Let' s bring our people back together and let's bring about healing. The closer I get to my culture, the more healing I feel. Take your kids out fishing, berry picking, teach them the native dance, tell them stories of the past, make sure they go to school daily and on time, teach them our cultural values (very very important). It's one thing that was not forced from us. Be proactive. Let's heal for our children and our children's children. 

Love Yourself

Moments of immense struggle and hatred for oneself. You feel like your heart is going to crush physically right inside your chest. You can’t see the pressure, but you feel your heart falling down into your stomach. You want to throw up. Thoughts keep racing in your head: all negative. The negatives add up and the guilt builds up. You can’t take your mind off these negative thoughts. They eat away at any positivity that you may have in your life or experienced even recently.

The build-up makes you anxious and you begin to hate yourself. You don’t want to stay on Earth. You don’t know when you will come out of this. Ending it all comes to your mind. You think the world would be a better place if you were not around. These feelings can be short-lived or everyday thoughts. If you have not experienced this, you cannot fully understand those who suffer with depression or contemplate suicide.

I experience this; not on the daily, but here and there. I battle with depression and anxiety especially recently after so many deaths of friends and family. It has been a tough few years. 

Recently, I have found a way to cope. When I feel these terrible, horrendous feelings, I turn on my Itunes to Lauren Daigle and listen to her song, “You Say” over and over and over until I come out of it. The song is a good reminder that God loves you and says that you are enough. Regardless of your mistakes, you are loved by God. You have been brought to this Earth for a reason. Even if you do not know your reason, you are here. I encourage anyone who battles depression to speak to their loved ones or to reach out to a counselor. 

Figure out what makes your heart happy. Think of all of your loved ones and your impact on their lives. Do the things that you love. If you enjoy writing, WRITE. If you love music, turn on the music. Bake something. Watch your favorite comedy. Call up a good friend. Go fishing. Paint a picture. Remember that God loves you. You will overcome those feelings. Be strong and never give up on yourself. Above all, love yourself. 

Humanity

I’m beginning to lose hope in humanity. Each day, I hear bad news, whether it be in the news or through friends and family. So many shootings and unwarranted deaths. So many people taking their lives, not realizing the hurt they leave in the hearts of family and friends.

Two years ago I thought I was at an all-time low when my uncle Peter and cousin Justin passed away. I was depressed and cried for weeks on end. Little did I know that this year would be even harder. One of my good friends hung himself. We didn’t even know he was depressed. He was the go-to for information on hunting and fantasy football. Then yesterday, an Edgecumbe classmate took her life as well. I feel so bad for her kids. She had four kids: one at Mt. Edgecumbe and two little ones. I hate that they have to live without a mom for the rest of their lives. How do you answer the question, “Where is mom?” or “What happened to mom?”

As depressed as I have become, I can’t imagine leaving behind my kids. I would hate to live without my mom. She and my grandma are my rock. There is something about a mother’s love that makes the world go round. I have been lucky to have two moms.

I feel hopeless. I don’t want to go to work. I don’t want to cook. I don’t want to bake like I used to. Music doesn’t move me like it did in the past. I have lost all motivation. I don’t know what it will take to climb back up.

I keep wondering if the world is ending soon with all the natural disasters, ugly world leaders, hatred spread all around, homicides, drugs, mental health crises, etc. What is the world coming to if not the end? Why can’t we all just love one another? Why are kids bullying other kids? Why are people killing over drugs?

The only thing we can do is to do our part in making the world a better place. Be nice to one another. Do good deeds.  Share a smile. Sometimes a smile makes all the difference for a person. Ask people how their day is going. Hold the door open for someone.  Call a friend and catch up. Simple gestures go a long way. I know simple gestures won’t fix the world, but it can’t make things worse.

Suicide in the Village

Lately I’ve been so bogged down from all the losses we’d had in our community. Many of the losses have been from suicide. These ones hurt the most because I feel like the people who commit suicide hid their hurt so well that we never got the chance to save them. One of my good friends passed away from suicide last year. He had a good group of friends, was active on the ball court, and did a lot of hunting and fishing. I never would have guessed in a million years that he suffered from depression. I knew he was going through a breakup, but he seemed like he was ok.

Life is so different not having him to talk to about all sorts of things ranging from moose hunting to fantasy football to everyday life struggles. I wish I would have known. I should have made it clear that I was always there to listen and talk. One year ago yesterday, he caught his very last moose. He, like me, spent just about everyday on the river looking for a bull to provide for his family. My buddy kept me in the loop on who caught where and if he saw anything while he was out.

Suicide has hurt just about everyone in our community. I can count at least five people who have died of suicide in Unalakleet in the last 2 years. These people were young. Some were parents of young children. The connection between alcohol and suicide in Alaska hits hard.

I’m not going to lie. I have been there before. I was 20-years-old and going through my first major breakup. I was so heartbroken. I thought I was going to marry my high school sweetheart. One night, I grabbed a handful of ibuprofen and swallowed them. Then I grabbed one more handful and swallowed them. I washed them down with water as I cried. I then called my best friend Megan to tell her what I had done. She rushed over to my dorm room. I was already passed out by the time she got there. Luckily my dorm room was on first floor and my bedroom window was open. Megan climbed into my room and saw me passed out of the floor and she called the cops. The ambulance picked me up and brought me to ANMC. By the time I woke, I was caked in charcoal.

My mom was at the hospital when I woke up. She flew in from Seattle. When I came to, I realized that I wanted to live. Many other friends and family came to visit me at the hospital. I realized how many people loved and cared for me. After being released from the hospital, I packed up my stuff, dropped my classes, and went home for the rest of the semester. It was the spring of 2005 when this happened. Here I am now, 14 years later. I have three beautiful children, whom I would not be blessed to have if I were to die then. I am forever grateful to my best friend, Megan, who saved my life.

Sure, I deal with depression every once in awhile. I also live with major anxiety, but I have a reason and a will to live. God put me on this Earth for a reason. I am alive today to spread the news that you are here for a reason. You are loved and you mean the world to many people. If you every feel like life is not worth living, please talk to someone close to you or even come and talk to me. I would love to listen and help you through your struggle.

Moose Hunt 2018

I had my chance twice this fall to catch a bull moose and failed to bring one home. I was so disheartened. On Saturday night, we went to camp out at the cabin upriver with hopes to go out hunting early the next day. I woke up 3 hours later than I had planned. I quickly made breakfast (sausage and eggs), ate, and got dressed. Cassidy followed suit, as she always does. Wherever mom goes, she has to follow.

We got down to the boat only to find it was high and dry. Wooldridge boats are not light so there was no way we could push it out. I was so frustrated by this time. It was 10 am. I was losing time. I thought for sure there would be no moose roaming around if I stayed and waited for someone to come upriver. So, I brought a canoe down and Cassidy got in (with her life jacket of course) and I got in next. I started paddling upriver towards the slough across from South River. I wanted to sneak up on a bull like Jimmy Cragle.

I paddled half way up to the slough then I heard movement in the water down river. I turned around and saw him. Bullwinkle was a bank below the cabin so I changed direction and quietly paddled his way. Then I hear “Amber!” Reuben is yelling from the cabin. I want to yell, “Shut up! There is a bull out here!” but I didn’t want to scare him off. I kept paddling. Then, I notice movement across the bank from the bull. It is a cow! Reuben gets down to the bank and notices the cow and shouts, “Don’t shoot. It’s a cow!” By now I’m aiming at the bull because he is staring at me. I had to take a chance or he would run in and not return. I shot three times and missed. I was baffled. I was only 150-200 yards away. What was wrong with my gun? Cassidy sat quietly in the bow of the canoe. I paddled back to the camp to tell Reuben what had happened and how he scared the bull away. Afterwards, we went back to town to re-sight my rifle.

It was the 18^th day of my moose-hunting saga. I was beginning to give up. I had 2 days left to catch a bull moose. On September 18^th, Reuben, Bing, Cassidy and I went up to Sauyaq and drove into the horseshoe. Reuben fell asleep while Bing got out of the boat and did some moose calls and rattled some trees. I didn’t think he was going to call a bull out. We sat there for maybe an hour before deciding to move further in the horseshoe. Bing parked at the end and we looked around then I noticed a dark brown spot 350 yards ahead of us in the trees. Then, another light brown spot. I grab my .270 and change the magnification to see what they were. One was a cow and the other a bull. By now, Reuben has awoken and we are all looking at the bull. Somebody makes the crazy decision that we should shoot at him. He notices us and walks further in the trees. Then two cows come out on the right. We look through our scopes to make sure one was not a bull. We are thinking, “Gee! How many moose are back there?”

We never thought the bull would come back out, but he sure did. We all get our guns ready and Bing says to us, “1-2-3 shoot!” so we do. Then we reload and shoot again. Looks like the bull is walking away. We shoot another two times and he is gone. At first we think we missed so we are fixing to leave, but I tell them we should at least go check to see if we hit him. Bing and I make the long trek over. He walks the wrong way and I redirect him to where I hear distressed breathing. Sure enough, we got him! Bing and I walk over to the bull and I do the kill shot. I am beyond happy and almost in tears. I waited so long for the day to come. We decide that we will come back in the morning to butcher and haul, knowing it will be a long day due to how far we would have to haul; plus it was getting dark.

The next morning, Bing and I went back up to butcher the moose together. It rained on us all day. My raincoat soaked through to my fleece sweater. After butchering the moose, we took the toboggan and started our first portion of the haul. Walking through tree stumps and wet grass ended up being a lot harder than I expected. Bing told me that L.A. (his brother-in-law) was going to come up and help haul in the evening. Well, it was going on 5 pm and nobody showed up. I was in despair thinking of the long evening of hauling without help. Bing kept saying, “sounds like a boat” and then nobody would appear. We were hearing things. Finally, when we got all the meat to the first stretch, L.A. and Reuben show up.

As we are hauling the meat to the boat, L.A. hears a moose and it gets close to our boat so he shoots. The bull was not going to stop for anything. He was a huge guy too. I’m so glad L.A. showed up because I don’t think my .270 would take a bull that big down. I didn’t even hear him coming. I just heard the two shots then when I got to the boat, they told me about the bull. He had a 68-inch rack! He was huge compared to my moose (41-incher). 

By the time 9 pm comes around, Bing and I are just beat and freezing from being in the rain all day. L.A. guts and quarters his moose all by himself in 45 minutes and we all take off for home. It was quite the hunting trip. Next year, I am not going to hunt like this. I hope to catch a moose near the river so we don’t have to haul so far. Since this is my first moose, I have to give it all away, which is fine because my freezer is full. 2018 has been an amazing year for me: catching caribou, travelling to Europe with my mom and Cassidy, and catching my first moose. My heart is full. Now I can relax and enjoy some football.

Moose Hunting Blues

On Saturday, I left the house at 7:20 am to go moose hunting. Initially, I wanted to go upriver but the Lund battery was not charged. I was so frustrated because I was all packed and ready. I had high hopes of seeing a bull along the river because it was early morning and everyone else would still be sleeping. I had no time to waste so I got on my Honda and drove up the road.

Along the way, I bumped into Guam and we decided to partner up to look for Bullwinkle. We drove past North River Bridge and took a right and walked a path. There were moose turds on the path, but we could not call a bull out so we left. Guam and I drove the tundra before White Alice and still no luck. After we returned to the road, we parted ways. I took off for VOR. Once I got to VOR, I drove the tundra behind Oliver Hill. There is a pond behind Oliver Hill that looks like viable moose country. I sat there a good two hours and attempted to call out a moose, but I was unsuccessful.

A slight breeze made the tree leaves bristle.  I snacked on slightly sweet and tart blueberries while I sat and waited. The tundra was covered in frost. All I heard were the sounds of boats driving up the river and the tweets of birds flying around. A spruce hen flew out of the bush and gave me a good fright. The sky was blue and there was not a cloud in sight. Blueberry leaves covered the tops of my bunny boots.

I had my moose call in hand. My throat was getting sore from trying to make my voice deeper. Calling moose is hard for a soprano. I hoped that nobody was around to hear my sad attempt to call moose. I’m sure I scared the moose away rather than called it in. I’m just glad I didn’t call in a bear. Would I shoot a bear? I would if it meant my life was on the line. Since my moose call was not working, I opened my moose call app on my phone and tried it. It also was an unsuccessful approach. 

I tend to think too much sometimes. As I sat and waited for the unlikely presence of a bull moose, I started to ponder who the first person was to eat blueberries and how they knew they were not poisonous. Then I started to wonder who made the first gun and how they knew where to shoot a moose to kill it. Then I started to think, “If I shot a moose over here, it would be such a troubling haul to bring it up the hill.” That’s when I decided I was in a bad spot for moose hunting. I left my spot and drove back home. I had to recollect my thoughts and refuel.

These are just pictures from a handful of times I went out berrypicking. Cassidy is a pretty good hunting partner. 

 

Moose hunting makes me anxious because we are given a quota. Once we get closer and closer to reaching it, you start asking around, “Who all caught?” You scroll through social media looking for moose pictures then you are relieved to only see people in other communities catching. This gives you slight hope that your time will be next. I’m still trying. Seems like some people have all the luck. They go upriver and don’t have to go far and a bull just swims across the river saying, "shoot me. shoot me." Easy kill there. All I see when I go out are darn cows. I feel as blue as the blueberries. I think we have another 10 days left and the moose are starting to move more with the colder weather. My time will come. Stay tuned…