Things That Kept Me Sane, Or Led Me Back To Sanity

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Okay, so I am not entirely what most folks would call really sane. but, I am not quite at the definition of insane, legally speaking. I am sort of..., functional and pretty much okay. Like most of us, I dwell in that wide band in the middle of the spectrum referred to as 'normal'. Where one appears on that spectrum is variable, so most of us just don't talk about it.

When my kids left home, or at least the last one did, I felt like I was going nuts. I was so sad, so angry, so critical of life and people, so disillusioned. The now and the future held no interest or excitement for me. I took long naps, stopped doing stuff that I love to do, gained weight, cried over baby clothes as I was purging the clutter in storage.

I was depressed and pissed off, and borderline mutinous. I contemplated faraway places and new faces. I was approaching the edge of that wide band of normalcy, moving closer to 'nuts'.

Then, I started blogging. I wrote about anything I could think of. Not emotions or empty nest syndrome (that's what they call it, it has an actual name), there are plenty of sites for that. Just my life, my animals, things I found funny or motivating or outrageous. I didn't care if anyone read it. I love to write; always have. I used to journal regularly, a habit that went away as I advanced career, marriage, childrearing. (Ewww..., I wonder where all those journals went?)

I found, as the months passed, that I was soothed as I 'talked' about things on my computer. It calmed me, made me focus, helped me see and appreciate the funny or quirky or poignant stuff of life. If that ain't therapy, I don't know what is.

And, also, after a year or so of healing, I got a horse. As a child and adolescent, I spent as much time on horseback as I possibly could. My horse loved me unconditionally, never spit out venomous words, never hit me, never shamed me. Just carried me to places far away from the hell of home. Munched grass around my dreaming form lying in high meadows under wispy clouds. Warmed my cold hands on dark winter evenings as I watched him eat in the low pole tar paper building we called the barn, as I escaped the bottled up anger in our steamy rickety house.

A horse represented freedom, calm, escape, independence. It conjured images of having a friend that is loyal and loving and nonjudgemental. Just the thought made me smile.

So, fast forward to now, once again a horse owner, once again riding alone or with friends, escaping, calm, focused, filling my empty nest heart and my 'what now?' mind. A balm on four legs, an elixir of life that is real messy.

I'm ready for the next chapter, Life, bring it on...