When All That Glitters was originally released on May 11 2011, mental health and trauma were topics that weren’t openly discussed in the mountain community, or any community for that matter. Although the colourful stories from my past were revelatory to the people who thought they knew me as a fit mountain athlete, the mental health and trauma component to the book wasn’t fully embraced by a tribe that prided itself on rugged individualism and its attendant stoic suffering.
In the fifteen months it took me to write this book, I told myself I would never publish it, after all, the topics I cover were loaded with stigma and in some cases surrounded by a conspiracy of silence. But when the manuscript was ready, I pressed send and felt a wave of relief that I had taken control of my personal narrative for the first time in my life.
“In her direct, heartbreakingly honest memoir, All That Glitters, Talbot details the darkness that nearly killed her—but that also ultimately made her the fierce vertical warrior she remains to this day.” — Matt Samet, editor of Climbing and author of Death Grip
In the intervening years since its publication, I’ve watched study after study come out in support of what my lived experience had already confirmed: that mental illness is rooted in the seat of the emotions, that it is inextricably intertwined with stressful events that happen in our lives, and that the treatment is far more complex than a prescription of talk therapy and pharmaceutical drugs.
In fact, the prescription is more closely related to mountain sports (i.e. activities that bring us into the present moment and ground us in our bodies) than I ever could have imagined when I was introduced to ice climbing while I was still addicted to street drugs. Since my book was released, forest bathing and wilderness therapy have sprung up as healing modalities in their own right. Doctors in Scotland now prescribe nature as a cure for many ills. And movement is scientifically proven to be the most natural and safe means of elevating the level of mood-stabilizing chemicals in the brain.
In more recent years, the mountain community has seen the creation of its own initiatives. The American Alpine Club has launched the Climbing Grief Fund. A handful of Canadian Guides created Mountain Muskox for victims of mountain incidents. And the survivor of one of Western Canada’s worst guided avalanche tragedies created Archetypal.
“From the darkest recesses of drug-addled depression to the unbearable lightness of an alpine summit, this fearless memoir is a testament to the power of human resilience.” – Bernadette McDonald. Author of Freedom Climbers and The Art of Freedom.
I will forever be grateful to Diane Morriss at Sononis Press for taking my project on and allowing me to retain control over a very personal story. When her warehouse burned down and she gave me back the rights to my book, the only solution seemed to be to self-publish under my own banner.
Until I met Don Gorman at Rocky Mountain Books, who, with the help of Paul Zizka Photography, turned my work into something that truly can be judged by its cover.
Well said Margo. I 100% believe our mental and emotional health is connected to the earth. For me it is the mountains and the ocean. Without being connected to these I could have searched forever for answers. There is much more to mental health than medication and therapy as you said and it was only a combination of all of these that gave me the release I needed from years of pain and anguish. Let’s hope that the mental health community continues to move in the direction of connecting people to the beautiful things this earth has to offer.
Dan, it’s always good to hear from others what has worked for them as well. The good part about this is, we actually don’t need the mental health community to do anything for us; we can simply do it for ourselves. It doesn’t get much more empowering than that. Thanks for your note. M