Friday, April 22, 2016

where do I go from here?

I get this question asked of me daily, and ask it of myself too...What am I going to do next?

Answer: I have no flipping idea.

What happened to Traveler broke my heart, a freak accident, but I knew I needed to find another partner to continue on with.  Now losing Tesla in a matter of 12 hours to colic gone bad has my heart reeling again, not able to look at pictures of either without crying.  I was already watching every damn branch on the trail and having my heart skip a beat, now how could I deal with not having eyes on a horse 24/7 to know they are OK?

Those damn "what if?" questions running through my mind...Researching and talking with the vets who treated Tesla has reassured me there is nothing I could have done to prevent this, but it doesn't stop you from beating yourself up for having shit luck.  Or for the loss of a young horse who had already been through so much, that you were developing a partnership with, that you had dreams and goals to achieve together...

My life is out of balance... I eat because I have to, and a only at a minimum. I haven't made popcorn all week (and that was my go to evening snack). I love my family, but I am missing that "something" I look forward to doing all week long...I am moving through minutes/hours/days sometimes on autopilot, doing what I know I have to/need to.   I realized I don't give a damn about the weather anymore...I stay up to watch it out of habit, then realize it doesn't matter, I'm not trying to plan barn days anymore.  I have a trailer to bring home and continue to work on making my LQ, but why bother? I don't have anywhere to take it, and don't know when/if I will.

Having only one horse at a time is blessing and a curse... A blessing as I don't have to be faced with the creature I so long to be with right now, but a curse as I don't have another to pour my tears into and give me something to move forward with.

I'm grateful for the support of my family and friends, many who have been through this themselves and know the unfairness of what I am dealing with right now.

I'm ecstatic my daughter's surgery went well, that she is already hearing things either for the first time, or differently than before and asking us about them. It is a whole new world for her and it amazes me how well she compensated on her own without us knowing there was an issue.

But I'm mad.  Mad about where I am supposed to be today/this weekend. We are supposed to be at No Frills, getting our first ride of the 2016 season under out belts, preparing for our first 50 in a few weeks.  Getting miles on the books for my Green bean team.  Enjoying the stress and fun of ride-camp.  Being one with my horse, riding my own ride...

I have to believe that G*d has a greater plan in mind for us...but it is hard as hell to come to terms to with that.

Ride Camp, No Frills 2015

1 comment:

  1. First you have to grieve. Kick, scream, and lament the truly unfairness of it. Because it is unfair. It truly and unrightiously sucks. I was in your broken place a few years ago. The circumstances were different, but the paralysis was the same. I had just rolled up my side walk, and placed myself in neutral. The sun was bright, but it didnt shine, the weather was beautiful but I was oblivious.

    It takes time. Give yourself the time you need. Then what you love.

    It is hard to realize that nothing that breathes is permanent. We build bonds in life and they are such gifts, and our pain signifies how beautiful the bond truly was. It will never be replaced. But you can find it new and perfect again. I promise.