Judging from the aerial view of Colorado State's Mental Health Hospital you would never guess there was a 3.9 mile tunnel system running below it. Yet, as I found myself carefully stepping down stairs that were clearly very worn, I could feel the claustrophobia creep up my neck. Contrary to expectations, the tunnel I stepped into was very warm. The day outside had quite a bite to it's chill, but below the surface I felt I didn't even need my jacket. The tunnel was well lit and cemented. Cement floors, walls, and ceilings with a rail running along with lights periodically hanging from it. On either side of the wall there were several wooden doors that were padlocked. These doors were smaller than the normal sided doors and had rows of holes drilled into them. Curiosity got the best of me and I worked up the courage to peer through one of the holes in one of the doors.
A faint glimmer of light spilling in from the top of whatever was behind the door revealed a closet sized room with dirt walls. Why would there be so many similar little rooms like this. Of course, my instructor claimed the rooms were for storage, but seeing as how the tunnel system was built in 1934, I can't imagine the thought process behind building so many little rooms resembling a coat closet for the simple purpose of storage.
Being in the tunnels definitely did not have a comfortable feeling as I walked the long corridor that seemed to have no end. Some deep instinct let me know that if the walls could talk they would have quite a story to tell, including one of an escaped patient who survived a month in the tunnels by stealing food off the food cart that traveled by. Could you imagine the terror of the employee who found a psychiatric patient deep in the tunnels?
Above, the buildings show no evidence of the tunnels, as every entrance to the tunnels are within each building. As I ponder the thought of those now revealed tunnels, I wonder, how many of us have secret tunnels hidden below our surface? What secret thoughts and undisclosed desires do we have as individuals? In a way, we are like the hospital. On surface we show what we want people to see. We hide our fears, our pains, and our worries. We may even hide what makes us truly happy for fear of losing it. We put on make-up, hide our wrinkles, dye our hair, but when all that is stripped away from us and our soul is revealed are we really ok with who we are? And an even more important question, are those who claim to love us really ok with our naked selves?
This past year has flown by so quickly and now as I begin to feel the chill of fall and the threat of winter, I take some time to reflect on those who matter most me. Those who are ok with my tunnels. Some know the tunnels are there and want to walk through, yet I seem to lack the strength to turn the key to unlock the entrance. Others have free roam of the tunnels, and even more still know they are there but simply lack the interest of walking through them. It is when I have been walking through fire that I turn around in the furnace to see only my truest of friends there right behind me walking through the same fire. It is these people who stand in the center-most point in my heart. It is these people who at the end of the day, when my make-up is washed off and my bandages are removed, that can see my wounds and not shrink or shutter. It is these people who are worth my tears as they splatter across the pillowcase. It is these people that I draw my strength from and sadly they are only an extremely select few.
I am ok with my tunnel system and I am ok with my buildings above. Although they may need renovation from time to time, they are a signature of me. As time goes on, I watch people come and go in my life. Some come for a brief moment and leave quickly, others stay a while then eventually venture astray, while others still linger for a while and share experiences with me. It is the latter type of people that I strive to be and that mean the most. It is that type of person who has the tunnels already memorized.
