That’s probably the longest blog title I’ve ever used, but it’s accurate. I have been very busy, everything is flooded, my first clutch of eggs left me with about 3/4 of them completely unfertilized and my horses are assholes. I could just stop there, but let me explain further:

A few weeks ago I brought my horses home to my mom’s. I stay there all the time anyway, pretty much, taking care of her. So, I thought, “the only way I can make this work is to move my little farm back to where it started for me as a child.” So far, so good. We got fences built and other fences fixed. We started cleaning off the ruins of the old barn to start over with it. I cut trails and cleaned out areas in the woods for the horses to get out of the wind and weather until that project is completed. And it was all going so well! Cowboy and I had at least one great ride, Anna had her first bareback experience with me (or acted like it was the first time she’d ever been ridden bareback, lol), everybody was happy.

That was until monsoonpocalypse began a several days ago. It’s so awful – and it looks like we have another twelve days to go. OH. MY. GOODNESS. I know that all over the country people are having weather issues – severe ones, in different ways and at different levels. I’m going to say this even though I can’t believe I am – I’d rather be cold than be dealing with horses in a flooded pasture with no stables built yet… (I know – my mouth is gaping, too.)

Sometimes when dreams come true, you have days where they are more of a problem than a joy. Today has been one of those days. There have been some funny moments but mostly? I’ve cursed a lot, yelled at the sky and the atmosphere for being a dick, yelled into the void of the forest at big corporations for causing these ridiculous new weather patterns (believe it or don’t, I don’t care – but I do believe it). In short, “it’s beginning to look a lot like f*** this.”

Here are some photos/videos of how it’s been today. I’ll begin with my early morning feeding, and end with my fresh hay getting pissed on.

At the end of the day, despite my mom’s DISASTER of a doctor’s appointment, it’s not all bad. There are silver linings to all these horrible things happening. For one, I’m staying extremely busy which keeps me focused away from demons that are best left to burn in hell alone. Secondly, I’m outside constantly so plenty of fresh air. And, thirdly, I’m learning a hell of a lot about what I can do and remember from 30 years ago that I thought initially would be the downfall of my success on this adventure.

We all have bad days. But, when one of your horses pisses on the fresh hay you just put out, lays her ears back, gives you the side eye as if to say, “I care nothing about your hard work or efforts, that you’re here on time every day to feed us, that you’re doing your best to protect us from the flooding and keep us comfortable despite these ridiculous nightly thunderstorms, you suck for spraying my ears and I will not forget this,” you can’t help but laugh a little, pat her on the shoulder and feel like you’ve accomplished something good.

If you’re not pissing someone off, you’re not doing life right – isn’t that what the saying is? It’s something like that, anyway. 😉

Joyful Noise | catacosmosis

I basically randomly put this together while waiting on the cable guy today (still a no show thus far) and the whole time I had my cousin Gail on my mind. It was after a conversation we’d had about the horses and a thing I’d taken away (or been reminded of – you can read about that @alifespiral) from that… So I suppose in some way this song is for her.

All it takes is one drop of kindness, of patience, of showing confidence in someone, of just giving love to someone, to make create a ripple effect in their life that helps them onward through very difficult and trying times. Without my cousin and her faith in me, I don’t know how much faith I’d really have in myself today. It’s been a trying year (from this time last year to now) and the trials will continue (with my mom and her health) but I am so much more confident and aware now of just how strong I am.

Thank you, Gail…for all the times you listened, called me out, and pushed me onward. I love ya. ❤️

Lunar Reflections | catacosmosis

I often stare at the moon, reflecting on the things that are in progress in my life. I’ve always done this, even as a child. It’s as though she understands.

“The moon is a loyal companion.

It never leaves. It’s always there, watching, steadfast, knowing us in our light and dark moments, changing forever just as we do. Every day it’s a different version of itself. Sometimes weak and wan, sometimes strong and full of light. The moon understands what it means to be human.

Uncertain. Alone. Cratered by imperfections.”

—Tahereh Mafi

Over a year ago, I did something I never thought I’d have to do. Because doctors were not helping me with my mother (who has dementia and is getting worse), I contacted adult protective services on my own to beg for help. The state came through, albeit an extremely slow process. They sent a wonderful man by the name of Mr. Hardin out to my mom’s home to evaluate things and he immediately agreed, upon meeting my mom and seeing the state of what I was dealing with (alone, as an only child), that I needed and deserved help in dealing with her.

That day back in January of 2018, I started a process of trying to get guardianship of my mother. Not something fun. Not a responsibility any human being really “wants” to have, but one that I knew in my heart was necessary. Now, we have reached a point where I need conservatorship, as well. And this is posing a problem at a number of levels. Alas, the doctors have all finally come through and given the state the information, documentation, and support that was needed to start a court case and here we are.

Except, today I found out that there is a thing called a “conservatorship bond,” and it’s something I have to not only pay for myself (which is hilarious because the reason for filing for legal guardianship and conservatorship for my mom is mostly financial – or the lack of finances, rather, for being able to put her into a better living situation with round the clock care or even in home care) but also something I have to qualify for based on my credit history. My credit history is not perfect, I’m not ashamed to say, because of student loans (which I have recently managed to get out of default, but still…). This could easily put a cramp in things, depending on the judge who hears the case.

I am anxious, I am stressed, I am worried, I am just almost at a loss. I have fought for so long to be able to legally care for my mother in the ways in which she needs care but refuses to allow me to care for her on my own, and in ways that a simple POA will not effect. And here I am, at risk of not being able to receive the legal help I need because of student loans and credit history and my disabilities due to mental illness (major depression, PTSD, extreme anxiety, etc.).

I just want to be able to take care of my mother and the law says, “you may not be competent.” Well, I’ve been competent enough for the last three years since my dad died to do so. And nothing has changed about that, except I am stronger and have learned so much about taking care of someone with her issues and illnesses. I don’t know what to do anymore.

I just want it to be over.

Hopefully within the next month I will FINALLY hear from a state appointed lawyer. Hopefully by the end of the year, I will be given my day in court with my mother to plead for the ability to care for her properly, make decisions she can’t, and make sure her bills are being paid (which they are not, at least not regularly, now).

If anyone reads this and has been in this situation or has any words of wisdom, I’d really appreciate reading them. I’m slowly coming to an end with my ability to see any positives about any of this, except keeping my mother alive…

“They say you get a totally new body every 7 years. Can you imagine?

It’s not like you walk in and ask for one. You don’t go in and say, “I want that skinny one with no issues and no scars.” No – it’s done cell by cell, day by day. Would you really chose a new body over this one that has carried you through so much?

I would debate it long and hard but eventually I’d stick with this one. Why? Because even though I want that fresh start, I want the one that is scarred, the one that’s embarrassed, the one that carries so much shame and hate because it only leaves me with room to grow and room to learn and a new chance to reclaim myself and my actions. I can’t pick and chose which parts of my body to exchange the same way I can’t pick and chose which pieces of my history to have lived through.

This may be a new body (technically speaking) but she’s still the same soul. A soul that wants to apologise to everyone for anything and everything. A soul that still misses some of the rocks and some of the mountains (not all because let’s face it, I’m still human and I will forever aim a flame to some bridges that will thankfully forever be ashes) but ultimately I’m a paradox.

I refuse to return to where I was all those cells ago. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I’m a soul that is a lot happier, a lot stronger, a lot braver, a lot smarter, a lot more compassionate, a lot more understanding, a lot more willing, a lot more forgiving, a lot more stubborn, a lot more fulfilled, a lot more mature, more guarded, more careful, more respectful, more educated and left with a lot more love to give.

You see, for every memory I have from the past <40> years, I’ve learned that it wasn’t just my story that was being written. It was everyone’s, and even if I played the villain, or the bad guy, or was just simply a blip in one chapter of someone else’s, my book will be written solely by me and I refuse to carry the burden of every single dog eared, tear stained, half ripped page that led me to this point.

Thank you for helping me write everything up until now but I’m starting a new page. One that is empty and ready to be scrawled upon, one that some of you may or may not be a part of, but ultimately one that will be decided not by guilt, shame, hurt or embarrassment but by each new cell that is me.

–@beautifullymadebadlyfinished