Over the weekend I had to make the heart wrenching decision to place my horse, Harley, on the market. My health has tanked so much over the last year and a half that a few hours at the barn knocks me on my ass for three days or more. This has turned into me getting out to the barn maybe once or twice a month. In fact, in the last eight months, I think I’ve seen Harley a total of ten times. That’s not good for Harley and it’s stressful as hell for me because I spend my time I should be resting feeling guilty that a horse who wants to work and have a job has become nothing more than a pasture ornament.
I pulled the trigger Saturday afternoon and then spent the rest of the day sobbing. I felt, and to an extent still feel, like I’m losing a piece of myself. I’ve involved with horses since I was twelve years old; and the idea that selling him means I may never own another horse is heartbreaking.
That decision brought up a lot of thoughts about just how much my life has changed in the last two years or so. I am currently unable to work. I’m rarely able to go out because many things from noise to heat to light to the wind blowing the wrong way can trigger a migraine. I no longer write as much as I used to. I’m no longer able to code (websites, strictly as a hobby) the way I used to. My memory is not what it used to be. I used to be able to drop everything to help a friend in need.
Now every activity is done with the knowledge that I’ll likely be in pain either during said activity or after. Sometimes for hours, sometimes for days. It’s a shit way to live one’s life. Thinking about these things has made me angry. This is not where I wanted to be at thirty years old. I wanted to be working full time, saving for a house and showing my horse. Instead I’m selling one of the most important things in my life with the potential to never replace him.
I’m trying to focus on good things, on hopeful things. I still need to decide what to do with the mountain of tack I own. Hang onto it for now or sell it. I’ve no idea. I have moments where I forget I’ve made this decision and then I remember and the cycle of feelings starts all over again. I’m sure it’ll be worse the day Harley steps onto someone else’s trailer. All I can really do right now is hope that’s soon so closure can start.