The following is a letter I wrote to a local artist last January after my horse died unexpectedly. Eight months earlier I lost my first horse, and three months before that, my best ever dog.
Dear Debi, I wanted to tell you about how much your painting of a white horse in moonlight, Dancing Moon, affected me when I saw it in a gallery the other day. I had to make the decision to have my white horse put down the day of the Blue Moon on Tuesday.
My horse Silver left the morning after a blood red moon this past January. I had to make the difficult decision to have him put down after two days of pain, confusion, and chaos. His leaving had me totally spent physically and emotionally. I was gutted. My goofy, silly, drama queen horse and loving friend was gone. He was 22 years old and I only had him for four and a half years. I expected him to live to see 30 and be a gentle old bag of bones wandering around my property keeping me company in my upcoming retirement. My soul dog Google died in March 2017 and my first horse, Scar, died three months after that. Only seven months had gone by. This was heavy. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.
I have been feeling for some time that I am almost at the tipping point of purging my soul and body of the after effects of an abusive 18 yearlong relationship. I have been out of that relationship for ten years now, and in my mind, I think there is nothing to purge. I’m over it, right? I have a brand-new life I created myself, right? I’m the captain of my own ship co-creating like crazy, right? Everything is peachy keen, right? But the body is not the mind. It holds onto things for a very long time. To me, that is what PTSD is. Abuse or terror held in the body to protect the whole.