Australian aborigines, who once slept on the ground, unclothed, on near-freezing nights, would slip into a light hypothermic state, suppressing shivering until the rising sun rewarmed them.

That hit home. I just tried to sleep on the ground for long while 'cause at least then I wouldn't be cold. Funny to think that actually might've helped me.

But then again I had also put my hands in my armpits to warm them and taken of my shoes because they'd gotten wet and were tight and I'd sprained my leg. I put my gloves on my feet instead. Which means I was basically walking with really thick socks on. So I did act kind of rationally. And I walked among the trees since they broke the wind and it was warmer there.

At 85 degrees, those freezing to death, in a strange, anguished paroxysm, often rip off their clothes. This phenomenon, known as paradoxical undressing, is common enough that urban hypothermia victims are sometimes initially diagnosed as victims of sexual assault.

Oh god that adds a layer of horrifying I'd never thought of. Everyone was already pretty sure I was the dead victim of a serial rapist but I'd never thought about the fact that they probably would have thought that for a long while if I'd died. I'm pretty sure at least one of the police officers thought I was lying about having walked in to the forest by my self and though I was protecting someone. Which is the correct response and I did act very weird because I had at that point been up for 22 hours and was pretty damn incoherent.

Also I'm pretty sure they would have taken a really long while to find me since they had been trying to for 14 hours and didn't succeed.

Also a local politician was shadowing the police that night. He made me tea.