The decision to sell my horses is a huge, heart breaking decision. My family knows how much my horses mean to me, at least I would hope they do. However, all they see is how expensive they are and how silly it is that I would think I’d be able to go anywhere with horseback riding and competing. They made that clear whenever I thought I might succeed and I shared my hopes with them.
My family never supported my desire to ride, sure they provided what money they could so I could take lessons and own a horse. However, my dream of being the best rider possible was ludicrous to them. I’ve worked at horses barns since I was 12 to pay for my horses’ board. I had to put my first horse down when I was 13. My mom says it was one of the worst days of her life but Maggie meant nothing to her. Honestly, I don’t understand why my mother would say it was one of the worst days of her life unless she was talking about how costly it was to put Maggie down. I couldn’t talk about Maggie for close to ten years. I just don’t even know anymore.
My dreams of competing were over before I had a chance to dream of being the best. We were poor and my mother was too busy to be there when I needed her. All she saw was that I wanted to be around animals that were expensive and smelly. She made attempts to help out but they were half hearted attempts and when she was there I knew she wanted to be somewhere else. Whenever I wanted to show off my riding skills, my family just looked at me like ok, cool so why are you riding? To them I was a black sheep; I was being ridiculous in my desire to compete because if I was sensible I would give up riding and live a quiet life. Which leads me to why I’m writing this.
My aunt texted me to see if we could meet up I told her no, I’m selling my horses. I also said no because I’m not doing well health wise, which is true. My narcolepsy is bad. I push myself during the week and then spend the weekends sleeping and trying to recharge. Which is why I haven’t seen my horses in several weeks. I’m so exhausted and overwhelmed that I just can’t even see them. I’ve failed myself and I’ve failed them. My aunt’s response to my text saying I can’t hang out and I’m selling my horses was ‘I’m sorry you had to make that decision but you have to think of you first. When you are feeling better let’s hang out.’ All I have to say to that was thanks for nothing. Thanks for proving to me why I don’t want to hang out with you.
Ok, am I just an idiot? Do I have a bizarre conception of family? Because that response was not at all what I would have expected. Where is the what can I do to help? Let’s sit down and figure this out. What other options do you have? Nothing, but oh good, thank you for becoming sensible. This is just another example of the truth that my family doesn’t want me to succeed. They think that I’m an idiot, that I’m wasting my life away. How can you succeed when you have no one in your court? How can you win a battle when you are alone on the field? Whatever happened to family sticking by your side through thick and thin?
I know of parents putting a second mortgage on their house to support their daughter’s dream of riding and competing. I know of parents who bought books and watched videos to understand what riding was about and to learn more about the sport so that they could help their child succeed. Those parents aren’t mine. Sure, my family gave me money when they could but the support and the cheer squad, well, my dreams were too much of an inconvenience for them.
Here’s the crazy thing- they try to get me to like what they are doing but why would I show any interest or support when I’ve been taught that no one cares? For as long as I can remember my family has wanted me to enjoy what they are doing but I’m the flipping kid. I’m the one who is supposed to be cheered on. Why am I going to be interested in what they like if they aren’t interested in what I’ve dreamed of doing since I was little?
My second big dream was to be a writer. I wanted to write lots of stories and I talked about how I wanted to write to my family. This was during high school. They said they’d love to read what I wrote but when I sent it to them they were offended and I pretty much decided then and there that I won’t ever share my stories again. Why should I share what I write when no one cares? Not even my family. People wonder why the world is effed up? It’s because we have no sense of family. Everyone is out to take care of themselves.
The only one who responded to what I wrote in a constructive way was my uncle’s ex-wife. My Aunt Karen, who made an effort to ride with me and to hang out with me and to give me the thumbs up. She supported me and made an effort to get to know me. Except, at that point in my life I was so used to being brushed aside that I didn’t recognize what she was doing. I just brushed her interest aside as she was only doing that because she had to.
I’ve created a lot of stories and blogs but I’ve hidden them from my family; when my mother tries to friend me on facebook or read my blogs I don’t like it and I stop sharing what I write. My family has let me down so often and in so many ways that I just can’t deal with their paltry attempts to get to know me. They are twenty seven years too late.
I wanted to share riding with my family but they didn’t want to be a part of it. So, I went on to writing and being more introverted but even then, my family didn’t approve. I wrote with passion and I wrote about how I viewed the world in a fictional sense and I was chided for what I wrote. They love me I know, they were only doing what they thought they should. Except, they just taught me I wasn’t special. I was nothing because I wasn’t doing what I should be doing.
Now, I have my eight to six job and I’m starting to “do things right”. They ask me how I’m doing, they ask me if anything is new. I say nope, the same old, same old. Right now, they all think I should be dating and married and planning for kids. That is what is right and proper. I refuse to be a part of the cycle of disinterest. I will not date nor will I have kids because I’m too messed up and I don’t want to spread the poison. My family taught me to stop dreaming, hoping and believing in something more. Not on purpose, no they didn’t do it on purpose, which I think is what hurts the most.
From 2013 to now I’ve been struggling. I lost my step father to cancer two weeks after I graduated college (2012) which I didn’t even deal with. I was working full time and true to how I grew up I just moved on without caring. My family all wanted me to show how sad I was, to let go of my feelings but no, they don’t get to share in those feelings. They don’t deserve to know me. Sorry, back to the point.
I bred Julie for a foal, with the money I received from my step dad’s passing. It was a difficult pregnancy and by the spring of 2013 I was quite certain I was going to lose both Julie and Fae. So, I bought a horse from auction with the intention of training and reselling her. She ended up having cancer and I got overwhelmed and quit my job and spiraled down into debt. Yea, I knew I had narcolepsy at the time but no one gets what narcolepsy is. No one understands what is like to live in constant sleep deprivation. No one gets how much that sleep deprivation messes you up. So, overwhelmed, sleep deprived and stressed about losing all three horses I fell into debt.
I wrote about it on dreameralways.blogspot.com I’m not sure if I left the posts up there. This post is not about that part of my life but I want to set the stage for what I’m about to write. Flash forward to spring 2014. I send Lexy (cancer rescue horse) to a rescue and I’m working several jobs to keep Julie and Fae. A friend of mine lets me live at her place but again I didn’t understand why she was being nice or showing that she cared and I feel bad about that.
Summer 2014 I moved back home because I got a full time job and my mom let me live with her but she made it clear that she really didn’t want me there. In her mind I should have sold the horses and used the money I was spending on them to pay for an apartment. Probably deep down she hoped I would find a guy so that I would be his problem instead of hers.
October 2014: I was driving to work when some idiot pulled out around a trash truck and into my lane. I remember seeing his headlights and being confused. I swerved and missed hitting him head on; part of me wonders what would have happened if I’d stayed in my lane. After the whole incident I remember coming to and thinking I was in an accident. Everyone drove on by, no one stopped or asked if I was OK. The driver of the truck and trailer only stopped because his trailer was off kilter.
His trailer totaled my car. I was out of it and kept saying it was my fault. I remember walking around and the police officer telling me to get out of the road. When I tried calling my mom to ask her for help she didn’t answer. When I called my brother he didn’t answer. The only person who answered was the barn owner where I kept the horses. She picked me up and drove me to work. I worked the whole flipping day. Even though I was out of it and pretty much walking around in circles. The barn owner offered to take me to the hospital but she was the only one who offered to help. At the end of the work day my mom made a huge deal out of having to come and pick me up. She never asked if I was ok or what happened.
She didn’t care. The fact that I was in a car accident was an inconvenience to her. Just another mess up. She didn’t offer to help me find a new car or anything. I was on my own, sure I acted like I was OK but that is what I was taught to do since I was a child. She wonders why I don’t want to see her or why I don’t ask for help? It’s because whenever I do she makes it clear I shouldn’t need help. That I shouldn’t need to ask for anything. I’ve glossed over a lot of the finer details because I wanted to make sure to get to the point. Family doesn’t exist. Family only judges, belittles and teaches you to fight for yourself. I’ve had people help me and offer me assistance but their interest in my life was so foreign that I just brushed it aside because I didn’t know how to handle it.
I don’t blame my family as their history is why they are the way they are. I just wish I wasn’t the one who had to deal with all of this. To look around and make the decisions I do. Knowledge is power and Knowledge is destruction.