Long time no blog

Its been awhile since my last post on here. I had forgotten about my little blog gathering dust in the corner. 

Lets catch up.

Patriot is still in recovery, we are taking things a day at a time. Somedays he is better, some days, not so much. We're rolling with the punches trying to trudge along through this seemingly ever lasting trial. Good news is good and bad news is very very bad, we've had set backs just as we think we are almost to the clear, but the vet keeps telling me "Things are looking up" I am not sure what he thinks that phrase means, but things are not always on the cheery side for me. After this next ultra sound we will find out if he will need another surgery. Then after that we can see if things will really look up or not.

Counseling has turned out to be a very good thing for me at this point in my life. My stuggles with OCD are only becoming worse as the years go on and I am finding myself shutting out everyone around me for fear of them seeing how messed up I really am.Which in return make dealing with everything else in life so much harder. But talking to Ann makes things a little more bearable. Someone that not only can kind of understand but will talk back to me, give me feed back, along with listening.

Because of the issues with my OCD here lately and feeling closed off from people school is harder and harder to get up in the morning for. I see no positive from it so I'm finding it more difficult to make myself do it. The panic attacks while doing it are becoming more frequent as well. I have a feeling school will be just all around harder this year, but I am trying to keep my head up. No point going into it with a sour attitude. That'll only make things harder. 

We are coming around to the one year mark of when Bruce left. That kid, I don't think he'll ever realize what an impact he had on my life. He made me want to be such a better person, me made me BE a better person. I miss every hair on his little leprechaun head. He will forever be one my of greatest friends.

Honestly thats about it. You see why I hadn't posted, nothing juicy to report. Same old same old. And besides I didn't want to post about things that were sad or depressing. I'm trying to be happier over here. 

And then my world stood still

May 19th is the first time in a long time where everything just stopped.

My heart stopped, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move, my train of thought came to a screeching halt. The world could have ended right then and there and I don't think I would have noticed. I couldn't even hear anything past the pounding in my ears. I didn't even make to to him before I started breaking down.

When I snapped to my senses and could get my shaking legs to stand from the crouched position on the ground I fell to when I realized what was happening, I couldn't get to him fast enough. My legs felt like lead weights. Every step felt like an eternity. I didn't notice the wrecked car he had slammed into in his confusion, I didn't even see the first person before they hit me, I had tunnel vision, nothing else mattered. They wrapped their arms around me and thats when I noticed I hadn't taken a breath since I started running from the arena. As I filled my lungs with air, my face buried in their shoulder a squeak slipped out and I remembered why I hadn't done that before as the tears over flowed. After a moment I moved away from them and started off in his direction again when the next one grabbed me. This carried on for another few people before I had it, I didn't even know who was trying to confort me anymore, it didn't matter. It wasn't working. I finally shoved through two who were on their way to latch on to me, they said something but I couldn't hear them. I could see him now, a swarm of people hovering around him, with their cell phones to their ears calling vets, halters hanging on their shoulders, some thrown to the ground, others with wraps and dressings trying to attend to his cuts, another carrying away what was left of his bridal and saddle, some simply covering their mouths with their hands.

I got to him and he was shaking, I tried not to look at his legs, or the blood. I just rubbed his head beneath his braided forelock, the repetitive motion probably more for me then for him. I felt a nudge and my dad warned me to watch my coat and breeches. I didn't understand before I looked down at my other hand that was rubbing the side of him mouth and lips and saw the blood coating it. I was fixating on it, like it was something so foreign, so alien that I couldn't comprehend it. I didn't snap back to reality until my name was yelled. The person holding his front right leg to try to stop some of the bleeding was motioning towards his mouth telling me to check his gums. I just stared blankly at her not understanding, then the person to my right lifted his lips and relayed to her that the color was fading. Then I understood, shock, they were checking for signs of him going into shock. I gripped the side of his halter and went back to rubbing his head, I didn't care that he was resting his blood coated muzzle on my show clothes, or that the mascara running down my face was dripping onto my white equitation shirt, or that half the show was out there watching me completely break down. I just wanted him to be okay.

Now its June 4th and my world still seems frozen. In some sort of limbo. I don't know whats next, I can't plan ahead and I don't like that. Patriot is still recovering, we still don't know his final outcome from all of this. It's scary and stressing. Every time I think about it for more then a few minutes my heart starts pounding and my breathing gets shaky. Its not just Patriot and I hanging in this seemingly unreal reality, it's my entire world. He is my everything.

Nights like Tonight

It's always nights like tonight where I can't reach out to anyone. Nights where I should be sleeping but it evades me. Nights like tonight usually finish off days like today. Days where I feel like I am pretending to be someone else. Someone who doesn't think like I do, who isn't always frustrating the efforts of my brain. I'm so sick and tired of not having any one to talk to, anyone who understands, anyone who can give me feed back, what I'm really looking for. Bruce, I need you to come home so I can call you on the phone and we can bicker and debate and you can talk some sense into me. So you can push back when I push. So I don't have to hold up both ends of the conversation, so someone else can be the agressor. Thats what I need. Sloppy words scrawled out on crinkled paper just isn't cutting it right now, I need one of those rapid fire conversations where neither of us can hardly get a breath in between words. There just aren't enough people like you in the world for me to be able to make it two years without you. You're it, and you're thousands of miles away.

Unfixably wrong

Anxiety has completely taken over my life. I can't even get myself through a conversation with a friend without it seeping in. It makes me want to be done. Done with everything. I want to throw in the towel, I quit, I'm no good at this. I've apparently done something so unfixably wrong. The guilt lets me know that, every second of every day it seems like lately I feel guilty, for something I've done, for something I haven't done. Pushing those thoughts out of my head is a full time job. There are only short periods of time am I left alone, most of them are while I'm sleeping. When I don't have to feel it for a while. When I don't have to feel anything except what I create for a while. 

I know it's not right, not right to do that, to look at things that way, but all of this has my thoughts so jumbled up, racing around like box cars on a train that all decided to jump track. I can't get myself to think clearly, to see the way out of this, or at least through it. So I am doing what I do best, blurring everything. Just blurring it all because thats become my best coping mechanism. My fall back when I get tired of fighting. Unfortunately it clouds my vision, my thought process, my decision making everything. It's like my mind turns to hibernation, still conscious but only enough to keep my body going. Only enough to get me from point A to point B. Like I'm not really living, I'm just here. I feel like a robot. 

I expressed these feelings months ago to Bruce, who I miss horribly... I told him I feel like a fish in the desert. I can't remember if I've posted about this before, but a fish in the desert, a fish exceptionally well equipped for an aquatic life but without a doubt, hopeless and entirely useless in the desert. Frustrated in the fact that everything I am will undoubtably go to waste in this desert. I feel like Tantalus, always thirsty but never able to take a drink, always hungry but the branches of fruit extend past my reach. I can't understand this state I am in, these thoughts and the process of them. Nothing makes sense to me. It's uncomfortable and stressing. I don't know what I want, I want someone to figure it out for me because I am tired of pushing back against this seemingly unmovable wall. I can't define it, I can't analyse it, I can't control it, I can't change it. So frustrated, but accepting because the guilt reminds me of the some unfixable wrong.

Preston, Idaho

I hope I dream about you again tonight. 

This whole thing is so weird. I can't even express it. My fingers completely useless, my lips entirely mute.
So weird, but I hope I dream about you again tonight.

Trying something new

Monsters are real, Ghosts are real too.
They live inside us,
and sometimes,
they win.
-Stephen King

So I have been having a hard year thus far. Just fighting to keep my head above water at this point. Every little thing is sending me into a frenzy, like for instance, minutes ago I had a complete panic attack over something so ridiculous it's not even worth worrying about. I am still not quite over it and I hope sleep will fine me soon.

I have decided to see a counselor, like a psychiatrist, someone to help me with my anxiety more then just someone to help me with therapy. At first I was worried about being looked at as insane, well, I still am, but I want to go now. It is something I need in my life at this point. I am nervous to go, I sometimes think I am building it up too much, that it won't really help me as much as I want it, or expect it to. And that makes me nervous. I can't afford to get shot down again, to expect something I should have not expected. To build myself up to be let down.

I really hope it does something, I can hardly wait to go in. Even the wait is building my anxiety. I can't stand not being in control about all of this, all of me. It is making me crazy. I don't want to let those monsters win again, but they are wearing me down and making me tired. I just don't know what to do any more.   

The good guys always win

If they haven't won, it's not the end. 

It is not the end.