Lessons of Letting Go

“When we meet real tragedy in life, we can react in two ways--either by losing hope and falling into self-destructive habits, or by using the challenge to find our inner strength.”

Dalai Lama XIV

On March 29, 2012, my childhood pony, Foxy, was taken from this life.  The circumstances were some of the worst you can imagine.  For the longest time I could not understand why.  Why did I leave her halter on?  Why did she have to die like she did?  Why did her leg break?  Why didn't we do something sooner?  Why was I alone during her final breathes?

When I moved to Cedar City I hoped I would be able to escape the constant flashbacks that terrorized me, but I was wrong.  I spent a month in bed depressed and trying to cope with the traumatic event.  Logan, bless his heart, stayed with me the whole time.  The antidepressants eventually began working and I was slowly able to start processing the event more productively.

Several months passed and the daily 4:00 anniversaries turned into weekly Thursday anniversaries, then monthly, then none at all.  I turned to Buddhism, with thanks to my sister for introducing me to it.  At first I did not understand that Buddhism taught that life is suffering.  I mean, how depressing is that to accept?  As I read more and started meditating again, I began understanding.  Buddhism has been a constant reminder of challenging my strength everyday, or I will become to my weakness.

The flashbacks have been the hardest part to gain control over within the last year.  After seeing a trauma therapist I attempted to do the impossible (so I thought).  Whenever I started to go into a flashback, I (or someone else) would have to "bring me back to the real world" by making me focus on a stimulus that was not at the accident (I.E. An ice cube because an ice cube was not with me when I was with Foxy and it would keep me in reality).  I thought I was going crazy.  I thought I had made myself an irreversible wreck.  During this time of coping, I have learned a lot about PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) and what it does to the brain and our behavior.  The effects triggers have (weather, smells, certain clothing, anniversaries, etc.) on our emotional state, how the brain actually changes shape after a traumatic event, and most importantly, that what I was experiencing was completely normal, made me feel not so crazy after all.

I've been asked, "Are you struggling with her passing because you miss her?"  The fact is, I have never missed Foxy.  I have struggled with her passing because of the way in which it happened.  It is not that I haven't accepted her death, but I have not yet accepted the circumstances or the emotions that came with it.

I find comfort in understanding, and I had no understanding until just a few weeks ago at a horse clinic.  I learned why Foxy's leg broke so easily.  I learned why and how she was in so much pain prior to her accident.  The amount of closure it gave me was unbelievable.  I actually smiled at the thought of knowing.  I felt stronger.

I have a long way ahead of me.  These last few months, and this last week in particular, have been rather difficult to deal with knowing that the one year mark has been approaching.  I can't sleep, my anxiety is overwhelming at times, and I don't feel "normal".  Sometimes I even feel downright embarrassed I haven't completely grasped what happened yet...but that's okay.  I believe the hardest part is over with, the initial three months, and I've been improving every day since then, little by little.  

Our first show.  We placed first in every competition we entered!

I have learned that it's okay to cry when I don't know why.  I may not recognize the importance of crying, but my brain does, and it releases more emotion and stress with every tear.  

I have learned that I am not as strong as I think I am.  Foxy's death threw me into a world of panic and I thought I could handle it when I couldn't, which became part of the struggle.  I had to swallow my pride and understand it's okay to not be the strongest person alive.  I had to define my own strength and decide if I was going to let this derailing keep me down or let me stand up and keep walking.

I have learned that life truly is suffering, but we must find happiness in things as they are.  We control so little in this life the best we can do is breathe, laugh, and keep moving forward.

Many of my friends still do not know what happened on the day of Foxy's death.  The people that do know will never be able to see it through my eyes.  What happened can only be truly known between me and Foxy, and sometimes I think that is for the best.  I sincerely hope no one has to go through the pain I have experienced.  I do hope, however, everyone is able to find their true inner strength somewhere along the lines of this crazy world.  

Today is a good day.  Tomorrow will be better.  Next week will be easy.  Next month will be easier.  In six months I may struggle, but I'll stand up even straighter.  In a year's time, I hope to look back and smile, knowing I have been strong enough all the while.

Thank you for everything you have led me to and show me in this life and after your passing, Foxy.  You were the best birthday present, and teacher, an eight year old girl could ask for.

Eugine Turns 100,000

My sweet, little red car (named Eugine) is turning 100,000 this weekend after a 286 mile drive I will be taking to Ogden.  When I first got Eugine he had only 46,000 miles on his hard working transmission.  I got him when I was 15 1/2 years old and I haven't had any problems with him.  He is a such a strong, reliable car!  We have been all across Utah, and even spent two months in Oregon.  

I originally wanted to call my car "The Crab" but my mom wouldn't let me.  She thought people would think I had crabs (yes, the STD) and/or I was a crabby person.  So, as a family, we decided Eugine would be a good fit because of the money-hungry crab off of Spongebob Squarepants.

Although Eugine has had a terribly hard time climbing any sort of incline (being able to only hit 40 mph on the on ramp and passed by semi-trucks on hills), I still love his clean interior and character-building dents.

In honor of his reliability and his 100,000 birthday, I will be purchasing him a car mustache.

Happy birthday Eugine.  You deserve to look wise.

My Kitticles.

I have a strong sensation to write about my cats, Puppy and Freckles.

This is Puppy.  He is also commonly referred to as Mo.  Puppy is 12 years old this year.  I saw him born and can estimate how many nights I've been away from him!  My sister named Puppy, as he was originally her cat.  She later gave him to me in trade of his brother, Blizzard, because Puppy was terrified of just about everything. 


He is an explorer!  Puppy loves to wonder around and see new things.  Since we moved into an apartment where he can't go outside, his newest enjoyment is opening cupboards and then screaming like he can't get out.  Although Puppy loves to explore, he is still the terrified little kitten he has always been and will flee quickly if anything scares him.  Oh Mo.
Puppy understands English almost perfectly.  Some may say that is impossible, and to those of you that do, I invite you to witness a conversation between Puppy and I.  He is extremely talkative and loves to tell me stories about his day while I've been gone (either that or yelling at me because I was gone for too long).
Puppy only has one eye.  He was born with two, but about a year and a half ago he was going through what I like to describe as a midlife crisis.  There was a month long period where Puppy would come home with random and numerous injuries.  A puncture through the base of his tale, one of his canine teeth was broken off and his mouth was bloody, large sensitive areas (like bruises), and the cherry on top? AN EXPLODED EYEBALL.  That's right.  Whatever Puppy got into knocked him out for three days and ruptured his eye completely.  He staggered home on Thanksgiving Day 2011 where we rushed him to the Animal E.R.  He got an enucleation done the following morning and recovered quickly.  Puppy doesn't go outside anymore unless he is being directly supervised.  Can't trust him!  His biggest struggle has been tolerating Freckles smacking him on the side of the face where he doesn't have an eye.

This is Freckles.  Freckles was brought to my parents house to catch mice.  I was in Oregon on my internship when they got her, so I had no connection with her whatsoever.  When I returned home in July, I met her but found there was nothing special

Freckles had been bitten by a Brown Recluse spider on July 28, 2011.  The venom began eating away her skin, tissue, and muscle within a matter of days.  Our local vet said to either have her leg amputated or put her down, but I felt like neither of those choices were an option.  I called the Humane Society and they told me they would put her down.  I took her to my avian vet in Kaysville, and he told me to soak her leg in warm salt water 2-3 times a day.  And that's what I did for the next six months.  At first Freckles hated me and hated what I was doing to her even more, but she eventually accepted that I was helping her and let me do the painful procedure.

September 10, 2011.

Despite many vets and people saying I should put her down, I couldn't give up on this kitten (she was only 8 months old).  Nearly a year later her leg completely healed.  She walks, runs, and jumps perfectly normal, but she still doesn't like anyone touching it.  Although I usually don't boast, I saved Freckles life when everyone else thought she couldn't be saved.
Freckles is probably one of the funnest cats I have had the pleasure to be around.  She loves playing with those little metal ties that close bread bags and begs me to play with her before I go to school in the morning.  Lasers + Freckles = Chaos.  She has also been an excellent companion for Puppy.  She has made an impact on my life and is as important to me as Mo, even though I have only known her for two years.

So there you have it!  A *small* biography on my kitties.  Anyone who knows me knows I could probably write a novel about Puppy alone, but this will have to do...for now.  And for the record, I am not a crazy cat lady.  I never wish to own more than two cats, and only two because they will keep each other company when I'm not there.  CATS ARE LOVE!

The Latest Developement

Hello friends, family, complete strangers.  Since I've moved to the wonderful small town of Cedar City, I've partially dropped off the face of the Earth.  Here's the scoop:

Many of you have asked me, why SUU?

• Southern Utah University is a fantastic school with exceptional professors and education, but it just so happens it is smack dab in the middle of nowhere.  I did not move here for the social life (we all know I lack one of those anyway).  I moved here because I was going into recreation management and tourism at the time and needed to get away from Weber State University's atrocious math department.  It was also a good chance to move away from home and get a feel for a different kind of living.

 You've changed your major...how many times?

• Zoology, biology, recreation management, English, communications, and now elementary education.  I've even looked into become a professional dog trainer.  So that is six official times.  And you know what?  That's  okay with me!  If I'm going to spend the next 50 years of my life in one career field, I better like what I'm getting myself into.  

What happened with you and Logan?

• I will not dwell on the past, but basically Logan got onto the wrong path and caused some serious issues within our relationship.  Eventually we decided it would be best if he moved back to Ogden and focused on himself for a while.  Yes, we did break up.  As of now we are back together and he is doing much, much better.  I see a bright future ahead of us thanks to his efforts and new revelations. 

YOU CUT YOUR HAIR OFF.  WHY?!
Daaaamn straight I did!  If I ever decide to grow my hair back out it would be safe to say I was on some serious drugs.  

Short hair rocks.