This story was submitted by Cinthia Joy.
Its a true story, it occurred this summer (2021).
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A gift from Mountain Man.
(How a unusual man helped me overcome my fear).

 

I was out on a Friday night with friends at a popular restaurant. The place was crowded and spirits were high. Everyone was enjoying the nice weather at the end of a long work week. We had a table on the side walk. I was enjoying my friends and laughing my heart out. I was feeling great!

Suddenly the people around me got quieter. Their laughter ceased. I saw people’s bodies stiffen up as if they were on high alert. A man was walking down the sidewalk, heading straight for us. He was wearing a filthy orange shirt. It was torn, exposing a bad sun burn and scars on his chest. His walking was a rough balancing left to right like a broken pendulum. With his large torso, arms hanging down to his knees and huge hands, he reminded me of Shrek the cartoon character. But he did not look happy or cartoony. He looked menacing.

I recognized him – it was Mountain Man. He was walking towards me. He slowed down when he got to my table. He was holding a large bunch of freshly uprooted purple flowers.
“I love you, hon,” he said to me. He did not look at me, just starred down at the side walk. Then he abruptly threw the flowers onto the empty seat next to me, and stormed away. Once he had left, the place got back to normal.

The first time I met Mountain Man I was working at a local gas station. It was late at night. I was alone. I had a clear view of the well-lit gas pump area from my register. There was a large man standing there screaming with his head lifted to the sky like he was yelling at God.

I assumed he was homeless and probably schizophrenic because of the scars on his face and the way he was mumbling and screaming to himself.
After a few moments he bolted into the gas station, shambled over to the coffee area and pored himself a cup. As he approached the register, cup of coffee in hand, fear gripped me. I am not proud of the fact but I was scared of homeless people. Now, I had a decision to make and I had to make it quickly. Was I going to back away from the register in fear and tell this man to leave or was I going to boldly and confidently step up to the register and treat him like any other customer?

At that moment, I made a decision to say no to that fear. I was not going to be afraid of this man.

“Will that be all for you tonight? I asked in as friendly a voice as I could manage.
“My name is Joe but everyone calls me Mountain Man,” he said.
His voice was rough but friendly. It was as if the “crazy man” I had just seen outside a moment ago had left his body and a normal person had taken over.
“Coffee is on the house,” I replied.
“Thanks,” he said and off he went.

Since then I have had a few similar encounters with him at the gas station. Nothing special, just the kind of conversation you have with a regular.
Receiving flowers from Mountain Man at the restaurant that evening touched me deeply. I had never done anything special during my encounters with him other then acknowledge him but doing that made me face my fear of being around homeless people and overcome it. This was his gift to me too.
I understand mental illness. I wake up to bipolar disorder every day of my life. Although I do not have schizophrenia I do understand the isolation, the loneliness, and hopelessness and despair that come with living with mental illness.

I still see Mountain Man around town from time to time and when I do, not only am I no longer afraid of him, but I don’t see him as being any different than me…or you.

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Cinthia is a mental health writer,and speaker.
Her website is titled “The road 2 happiness.”
Click here to visit her site and say hello!
-Scott