I haven't led what you'd call an easy life. I've had a roller coaster ride of ups and downs, and when I hit the downs, the only way I can get through is by laughing at the absurdity of life. I will never forget my very dearest friend's wise advice during one of my stressful spells: she said to me, with an absolutely deadpan face, "When life gives you lemons, you make cranberry juice and surprise the F-*#! out of the world!"
Well, that incidentally surprised the F-*#! out of ME, and took me so off guard it caused immediate giggles. I quite like that idea. I've never been a follower, more of an oddball, march to my own drum type..so making cranberry juice out of lemons appealed to me just fine.
When I first regained consciousness in the hospital after having a stroke, I hated everything. I was so sad. I felt that it was pointless to have survived at all. I could no longer move, the thing I loved over anything else in the world. Me, the pint sized athlete who never walked anywhere, but instead danced, bounced, sprinted, flitted, who loved to climb into the tip tip top of the tallest trees around, the one who could outrun all the boys in my age group, took 3 types of dance, karate, gymnastics, and swam for days in the summer time, was now reduced to a lump in a wheelchair. I couldn't walk more than a few steps without exhaustion (or tripping) I needed canes, wheelchair, leg braces. I was embarrassed to be what I'd become. I lost nearly all the friends I'd been close to prior to the accident. I hated seeing myself. For a longer time than I care to admit, I wished I hadn't pulled through.
It's painful to recall these memories, many of which are deep beneath the surface but still haunt my subconscious at times. I think of the trauma I put my family through and it still brings tears. It was so so long ago but somehow it's still like yesterday. I am absolutely certain that my family is what saved me. The amount of love and support they gave (still give)..well, let's just say, I couldn't leave them.
Things are infinitely different now, but there's still the little girl inside who feels like she lost herself.
Horses brought back my light. Slowly at first, because in the beginning, when riding was physical therapy, I resented the fact that I couldn't do what I'd done before in the saddle. But that feeling is what then propelled me to change myself. I didn't like who I was, so a fire ignited in me to make myself into someone I DID want to be. It's been a wearisome path, but the struggle is what makes humans feel alive. Facing death, facing a tragedy as huge as what I did, sweetens the good parts of life far beyond what the average person experiences. I honestly think that going through that loss makes me appreciate positive things to a heightened extreme, and everything that I overcome becomes a source of self esteem.
I've been in a low swing for a couple weeks now. I'm under an astronomical amount of pressure to acquire a new horse in time to compete with the team this winter in Wellington, and the time has come down to the wire. I've all but stopped sleeping, which of course messes with your sanity.
I've always been a bit dramatic. I don't do shades of gray, I don't do things by halves, I have a voracious life force that causes me to be extremely passionate. About EVERYTHING. Which is why I can come across as high strung, or anxious. Honestly, I just feel things more acutely than most people. And that is why, I just have to keep thinking of those cremons (lemonberries?) and keep surprising the F-*#! out of the world!! Also, the off color jokes that constantly fly around the barn do wonders to lift the spirits.
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| And now the song is stuck in my head... |
P.S. My friend Hannah at the barn, who is deathly afraid of fish..(???) got upset today when I said something about tuna. As she walked by, I said, "It's not my fault you have FISHSUES!!!!!"
And solidified the fact that I am a comic genius.
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