What does 'Sleeping Giant Mountain' mean?

Sleeping Giant Mountain

New England winters can be brutal but beautiful. As I stood outside of my dorm, thinking over the last few months, a cold wind swept down from Sleeping Giant Mountain, whipping
across my face. I gazed up at the imposing mountain, now completely covered by snow. The view was breathtaking.

I tried to get a sense of how I was feeling. I was no longer hearing voices in my head as much, but I was sleeping more and eating less. Getting through my day required a superhuman effort. I found it extremely difficult getting up in the morning. There were also moments when I was unable to focus and concentrate. I needed to do something. I had thought about seeing a doctor. I kept putting it off.

The semester had begun with a new roommate. Andrew and his girlfriend had moved into an apartment off campus. I was elected to the All College Senate as a student representative where I sat with professors and college administrators developing school polices. I continued hosting the Black Experience in Music at Yale. I kept myself busy, afraid that if I stopped to think, I might walk away from it all.

I felt different, like an aberrant, when I compared myself to other black students. I hadn't walked down the traditional road to reach Quinnipiac University. Even though I now had a high school diploma, the thought of never having attended a middle school or high school bothered me. I had no prom pictures to show off. I had no girlfriends to brag about. There were no tall tales of school adventures. I didn't feel like I had a family I could share my success with. With all that I had accomplished since leaving prison, I was unable to understand why I felt unhappy. I had hoped that being successful would make a difference. I had hoped that I would be loved a little more by my family.

Instead of going to my classes on this day when I was feeling particularly depressed, I wandered off into the woods behind the campus. I wanted to shake off my misery and
unhappiness by smoking large amounts of weed. When the weed ran out, and I was barely able to steady myself to walk, I headed back to the campus. I took a short cut through a parking lot. It seemed like every student had a car except for me. I studied the detail of each car I passed. I discovered that one of the cars had a key in the ignition. The door opened when I pulled the lever. I climbed inside and turned on the ignition. I placed the car in gear and drove off.