Time Out

I've taken a week off or so from horses, not because (in my heart, anyway) I've really wanted to, but because it was emotionally/mentally necessary.

I will probably be sharing a little bit more about myself on this blog than I did on The Chronicles of Ernest, just because it's more pertinent my journey with Stella. After all, our horses are our mirrors, right?

I have struggled with depression and PTSD for a long time, probably longer than I realize, but it really kicked in after I confronted my history of childhood sexual abuse. I was in weekly cognative-behavioral therapy for over a year before I agreed that medication was an important next step. Something about meds didn't sit well with me: I'm a proud person, and I felt like taking a pill every day was admitting defeat. There was also something else, something more insidious: folks assume that depressed or anxious people want nothing more than to get out of their rut, but for me, it was comfortable even if it was miserable. What I would have to tackle by getting over my depression and anxiety was my fear of being close to someone, my fear of losing control, my fear of not knowing what would happen. People with anxiety become very good at protecting themselves, and the irrational parts of our brains tell us that no one can protect us, so we don't have a choice. We simply aren't safe. I had built walls my entire life to keep people from getting to close, and this spilled not only into my relationships but the way I interacted with horses.

I think this, in some ways, is why Ernie and I functioned on some sort of deeper understanding. I didn't realize it for a long time, but we did a lot of the same things: we had our coping mechanisms, we had things we just couldn't get past, and we each knew how to toe the other's line just enough to get things done, but not too much that we got hurt. He gave what he could when I asked for it, and I took what he gave without pushing too much, mostly because I was afraid to see what would happen it I did push, like I was afraid of what would happen if I pushed myself.

With Stella, it's a whole new ball game. She needs my utmost confidence and support, and if I can't give that on any given day, working with her is pointless for both parties. Stella displays the same disassociation behaviors that I do when I feel anxious and trapped: when she gets too stressed, she "leaves". Her body can't run away, so her mind leaves and she becomes distant and unengaged. It's like she's on autopilot, the light is one but no one is home. Her spirit is gone, and she's no longer with me, but just going through the motions until it's over. I'm looking right into the mirror when I see this in her. So I don't encourage it by being fully present and demanding her attention at all times when we're together, and by purposefully not working with her when I'm not strong enough to do that.

This week there were some issues with getting my medication refills: my doctor was out of town, the refills ran out and needed to be re-authorized, the computer system at my pharmacy crashed, the records got lost...Murphy's Law was in full effect. When you suddenly go off anti-depressants/anti-anxiety medications, you go through a period of withdrawal just like with many drugs. I got really irritable, would have random unexplained shakes like one does with low blood sugar, felt "fuzzy", and went through pretty extreme mood swings, from high to low and back. I cried for no reason, and broke down at the barn when I went to feed Tuesday night because I couldn't get the horses into their appropriate stalls to feed. They probably saw the bright red ball of anxious energy around me and said "there's no WAY I'm going near that..." I had no control over my emotions, or so I felt, and decided when I got back in the car that I was not going near a horse until I got a grip.

It's frustrating to know you really do need the meds, because you don't realize they're doing anything until you stop taking them. But that's life, and if it's what I need to function, then it's what I need to function. Because of all this, there is little to report on the Stella front, but hopefully by the end of the weekend I'll be back to playing with my girl.

Ab initio

Welcome to the beginning (which is, in fact, really the continuation of another story, as are most beginnings...)

This is the new blog dedicated to my journey with a very particular mare. You can find "the other story" here: I call it "the other story" not because it means less or is in way less significant to my life. In fact, without it, I wouldn't be where I am today. The Chronicles of Ernest, my old blog, was the story about my old TB gelding, who is no longer with me on this earth. The events that have occurred since his death have sparked the need for a new blog, a new place to track the trials and tribulations of my relationship with my current horse, Stella.

A word on the title: this holds a kind of special meaning for me. People often use that phrase "through the looking glass" as a metaphor for clearer seeing or insight. It also has ties to Alice in Wonderland, although that's completely unrelated to this blog.

I have certainly peered "through the looking glass" on many an occasion the past few years. I've seen bits of myself, the rights and wrongs of my horsemanship, my relationship to horses and "what it all really means". I've done lots of observing: nothing but sitting in the stall, the pasture, the arena, and watching communication from horse and rider (much of which is often ignored or misunderstood) and rider to horse (much of which is often unfair/uncomfortable and confusing from the horse's point of view). I've also observed my own horse and her herdmates and how they communicate. Nothing is misunderstood or confusing here: everything the horse says and does is pure truth, because horses know no other way to communicate. It is from this that I begin to put together my new understanding of horsemanship. Now that I have this knowledge and am continuing to learn, I am no longer peering "through the looking glass", I am "into the looking glass". I am experiencing all that I have learned, assimilating my understanding of horses and myself to forge a better relationship with my mare.

There is so much good to come, and I am so looking forward to it!