The rocky roads

Life’s been a bit up and down lately, literally. Ivy decided a few weeks ago that I hadn’t swum enough this year and ran straight into the ocean during a beach ride. After several rodeo moments she landed me head/hands first into a great big wave. She then left me for dead and took off up the beach, through the sandjunes and around the neighbourhood. I then emerged from the water, soaking wet head to toe in my full riding gear and chased her down the beach. When that failed, I gave up and proceeded to walk around the area asking people if they’d seen a horse, most people were a little shocked by a stranger dripping wet wearing a helmet, horseless, asking if they’d seen said horse. Others commented on her beauty as she galloped riderless up the beach. Yes, yes that’s exactly the thoughts going through my mind in those moments…her beauty. We found her on someone’s back lawn, tied to a gate by the next door neighbours where were rather perplexed as to how a horse had turned up on their lawn, fully tacked up, in suburbia. Thankfully neither was too badly hurt, my pride mainly, and a little later I discovered my wrist was sprained but a trip to A&E established I was not in fact dying, despite the pain, and it wasn’t even fractured.

I thought I’d begin this blog with a funny story because if you keep reading, you’re going to need that humour. I think I’ve been holding onto as much humour as I can lately. I think that just makes life a bit easier to cope with. And watching your horse leave you in the water while providing people with a good dose of entertainment is certainly a good dose of humour, there’s not much else you can do but laugh!

Today in kids church one of the leaders came up to me and asked me if I was ok. I said “Yeah? Do I not seem ok?” He said I seemed a little off. I hadn’t really stopped to think about it to be honest. When you’re struggling with stuff I think it’s just easier not to think about it.

I mean how do you turn to someone and say “Well not really, I’ve been having suicidial thoughts for the past week because I don’t feel like I can cope.”

Like how do you just lay that on someone? Actually I don’t think I’ve ever openly said that to anyone.

For years I’ve been fine. Depression is a moment every now and then that knocks on my door but this last week it’s smacked that damn door right in my face and left me reeling a little wondering what the hell happened. I have nothing in my life that’s bad. There is no reason to feel particularly down. I just do. And that is one of the toughest things to explain to people. So I don’t.

It is easier to stay quiet and be ‘ok’. And I am ok. I really am. I know how to get through the down moments and tonight when people asked “how are you?” tonight I said “I’m good!” Because I am. I feel really good today and I know I will be just fine. I felt alive and like I wanted to be that way all damn day. That is pretty exciting. And I don’t write this at all to make people worry and I do not want people to suddenly say anything different to me, I have so many attentive friends and family. I am incredibly blessed and lucky. Because of them, their amazing way of just being, I always know I will be ok and I will get through it. No one needs to be anything other than what they’re being

I will always keep going, and I know even in the worst moments, I am going to be ok and I have a reason to live. Always.

I write it because I feel like there are people out there who need to read it…and know it’s ok. Because I want people to know they can open up and be honest, and that culture starts with me.

I run a Facebook pg called ‘YouthNet’. It’s an organisation that deals with mental health stuff. Anyway, I regularly post stories on there about family members who have written letters after their mum, son, daughter has killed themselves and they say ‘I want to raise awareness because not enough people talk about’. And I post them over and over…yet I’ve never once said anything to anyone…ever…about my own struggles.

Little bit hypocritical?

I was standing in church tonight and I started crying. And I never cry in church, but it just sort of hit me. It’s really hard some days to truly believe my life has a meaning and point. It pisses me off so damn much because I have absolutely nothing to be upset about. There are people living in cars and there are people who don’t know where their next meal is coming from.

And here I am living a beautiful life and I feel like I can’t hack it?

So many times I want to just tell myself to get over it and deal with it. But some days I just can’t. And that’s just the shitty thing about things like this, they hit at the strangest moments.

But what I have also learnt is those moments where it just seems like it’s far too much, those are the moments just before it gets good. And you can go years and years and years and be so fine and so great and so happy…then for no reason out of the blue you can’t do it.

Usually right when things should be good.

Anyway I’m pretty nervous about posting this, actually I’m terrified. This is honest even for me. I worry about people worrying about me, I am fine. This is not my first rodeo. But I do want to tell people how important it is to be kind, to be loving, to be open about struggles. To just be there for your friends. The people you love, the ones you don’t. Every single person you come across in your day be kind to them and listen. Be a beautiful person who makes someone’s day. Would you want to meet you if you were having a bad day?

For me, I focus on the little things. I focus on giving. On the days I simply cannot do it, I do something for someone else. I’m not sure when I began that, but it gives me a kind of purpose beyond myself and my own life. And it is so, so hard. I did not want to get out of bed this morning. Actually if I hadn’t been with Sam I probably wouldn’t have. But we saw some people and I was excited and I chatted because I got out of bed. I did that. I didn’t cry all day and I didn’t think one single awful thing about myself.

I’ve started focusing on loving myself and my abilities and trying to shut down those little thoughts of ‘you can’t do it’, ‘you’re not going to make it’ that become big over powering thoughts that shout. I’ve set a goal: if I can go an entire week without thinking one bad thing about myself I will treat myself to a massage.

It’s a massive goal, even sane and happy people would struggle. But it gives me something to focus on.

So that’s that. Take a deep breath.

I’ve found blogging hard lately; it’s super hard to be as open and honest as I want to be and as I need to be so I’ve just shut down and said nothing.

Keep your chin up guys, life is good regardless of the situation, it gets better and most importantly of all; YOU ARE WORTH SOMETHING. You are worth so, so much. You are amazing. You are beautiful. You are everything you need to be and more.

The best is yet to come.

Peace out.

 

 

Advertisements

Cat pee and cups of tea

I arrived home at 10pm on a Thursday after a quick two day trip to Russell in memory of my granddads passing. I ran a bath, made a cup of tea, sat aimlessly on the couch staring at a picture on the wall, stood in the kitchen for a moment wondering how to get food in my body without having to eat, then I went to my room. I petted my cat and went to put my hot wheat bag in the bed so it was warm when I got in. There, in the middle of the bed was a pee stain. A cat pee stain. I looked at the bed, I looked at Charlie, he looked back at me, I looked back at the bed. Right. I’m not sure what most people do when they’re emotional exhausted and find their cat peed in their bed, but I laughed. Charlie meowed. I laughed a bit more and looked at him and said, “yep, I know what you mean”. I have no idea what he meant. He’s a cat, he probably just meant he wanted food. But I’ll take it as a sorry. So the sheets are in the wash, including the waterproof mattress cover which is apparently not also cat-pee-proof and I’ve remade my bed. Of course he also got the duvet so that’s tomorrows job. I pulled out another one of my many and put that on my bed instead. The problem I faced with remaking the bed however, is every bed in this house is a double and mine is a queen…so fitting sheets on it is similar to me trying to fit back into my size six jeans after France.

So, here I am in my bath with my cup of tea, well the second cup, the first cup ended up cold and with floating bits of cat fur in it, balancing my laptop precariously on the edge of the bath because I’ve concluded this is my only quiet ‘me’ spot…it’s even safe from the cat.

Tomorrow, Friday, is all about bridal shower planning. I’m super excited but also rather dubious as to how I am going to make a paper mache in one day…guess it’s time to get out the hair dryer! I’m also rather frightened I might poison all the guests with cake as I haven’t made a normal cake in years and as I can’t taste it, well….you can imagine how that might end.

Never the less I am alive, I went for a run today and only nearly died, and I have tea, and a bath, and a clean bed.

Deep breaths, tomorrow is a new day.

Big open spaces

It was 11.37pm on November 1 when I finally changed my relationship status on Facebook. It might not seem like much but it was the last little moment of control. My room currently has boxes pilled in corners, blankets strewn everywhere, the horse float still has a few boxes and giant teddy bear, and I’m yet to attempt to unpack the biggest clothes box because my wardrobe is already full. In the past year I’ve cleaned out four large cardboard boxes of clothes and goodness knows how much other crap. But putting all my farm clothes, the ones I have absolutely no use for anywhere else in my life, in a bag ready for the second hand store, was it. That was the moment of certainty; this is my new life. I get to have a manicure, I can wear heals on the weekends, I can go out with my friends whenever I want, no more driving an hour every week. And it all seemed like small sacrifices but now without them, it suddenly feels like a huge weight has gone and I almost feel guilty about that. But I’m not one to wallow, ok well kind of, I wallow in epic amounts of sarcasm and dry, bitter humour, but in general I don’t like to dwell on things I can’t change. So I make the most of them.

It seems strange to reduce my life down to one room. Not two houses, just one room. My room. This is it. All of my things crammed into one space. I’d usually say all my life crammed into one space but it’s not what defines my life, far from it. I might be back in the same place in the same situation I was five years ago, but that’s not what my life amounts to. Part of me doesn’t want to unpack because I know I could well be moving again in a few months once I make up my mind of what I’m doing, but I can’t do that. I need to make somewhere home for now and this is it. I’m going through it all slowly and throwing out anything I don’t want. Nothing stays if it’s not wanted or needed and that in itself is therapeutic.

So far my plan of action has been to throw out any underwear that doesn’t make me feel comfortable and sexy. I put my pillow in the middle of the bed because I can have whatever side I want. I’ve cut my hair how I want it. I’ve worn heals out to lunch because I could. And I’ve taught the cat he can sleep on my bed. That in itself is a big deal, he refused to sleep on the bed until I moved him here…it’s our new start and we can be weird together. He still wont come out of the room for more than a few moments, and I get it, if I could I probably would hide in here too and sleep all day with him. Tomorrow I get Ivy back and she’s moving just up the road so even though there won’t be any riding for a while (thanks tailbone), I plan on taking her around the property and for big wanders on the lead because I have the time and there’s nothing quite like horse cuddles to make the world a better place.

I have some pretty cool friends and family who celebrated my birthday with me today. Only two more days until my actual birthday day! I’m feeling good. The beach looks amazing, I have my wardrobe back after four months living out of a suitcase, I have my bed all to myself, I have incredible people around me, I’m getting fit and heathy again after rather interesting food choices. It’s good, and I’m not just saying that to make myself believe it, I really am. I’m still angry sometimes, I’m still hurt a lot of the time, but I’m happy and I’m at peace. What more could you ask for really?

So week two of my return home begins. These next six weeks will be all about weddings for friends and brain storming where to next. And just like Charlie is terrified when he has big open spaces in front of him, I’m daunted and unsure what to do with all mine.

Until I know I’m just going to run around it like a crazy person on the loose.

And the continuous turn of events continues

When 2015 began I certainly didn’t see myself finishing it broke, jobless, and single. I also found my first grey hair today and I really wish that was the worst thing that had happened in the day. But it wasn’t. As I found myself sitting in my room of my parents home, the same room I lived in from ages 9 till 17, I couldn’t help but laugh at my life. I left five years ago after a break up, I left to study journalism in Hamilton and I had roughly $2,000 to my name. I was single, I had no job, I had very little money…but I did not have a grey hair. Now, five years later, I’ve returned with the same amount of money, no job, and single. It’s like nothing has changed yet I know everything has changed.

Here’s the thing about breaking up after four years: the world is a different place to navigate than the one I went into the relationship in. For starters, I’m now at an age where it’s like, do I make the change in relationship status public or private? When do I change it because I’m not quite ready to make it ‘official’ no matter how official it is. How do you go about dating again, not that that’s really on my to do list for some time. But how do you suddenly navigate a world where you’re suddenly four years older and have grey hairs appearing? A world where there are now things like Tinder? How do you actually even start again after four years turned into “I don’t feel the same way anymore” when you’d only just been talking about engagement and spending forever together less than six months before. Exactly how is it you get up and get on with life? The first thing people ask is how am I. I’m good. I’ve just come back from an amazing round the world trip and I have my horse back, I’ve found the perfect grazing for her just down the road, I have a cat, I have opportunities. I have an entire world at my feet…so I’m good.

But at the same time I feel like a truck has run over me because when I left, what I pictured coming back to was a very different landscape. My brain is still struggling to get itself around the fact I was in France a week ago and now I’m in New Zealand now it has to adapt to a whole new world.

And how do you go from picturing green paddocks and orchards and planting a veggie garden with someone to having no idea what the next step is?

Since I’m being honest, it’s also very hard to not decide to be a crazy cat lady forever when four out of five relationships have ended with “I just don’t feel the same way anymore”. Cool as guys. Super cool.

The best part about breaking up after one of the best breakup songs to date has just dropped: you ain’t alone in those tears. Cheers Adele.

So, let me reintroduce myself because this atomic bomb that’s gone off in slow motion over the past year has left me with a ringing in my ears and an inability to breath properly. I’m Sacha. I’m going to be 22 in a week, not even that. I have no idea what I’m doing with my life. And I have two weddings to be the bridesmaid for. And I’ve got a broken tail bone. And I know at some stage my heart will heal from the pain of losing people, of the family dramas, of this break up. It will get better because I have a cat and I have a horse. I have a degree. And I’m still standing. Because I’m yet to find something in my 22 years that’s left me unable to get up again. That atomic bomb has sent me flying and I’ve probably cried more tears in the past 12 months than I’ve cried in my entire life. But it means I can still feel and the ringing in my ears is slowly easing and the dust is settling. And I’m going to be just fine.

Let’s do that again. I’m Sacha, I’ll be 22 shortly, I’ve travelled the world, I have a degree in communications (ironic at times), I have a diploma in journalism. I have a passion for helping people and I’m thinking about retraining and figuring out how to put all my skills to good use. I’m part of this cool organisation called YouthNet designed to help bridge gaps to see our youth suicide rate improve, actually I’d like us not to have one. I love to do yoga. I love God. I have an awesome horse called Ivy and a cat called Charlie, he’s a bit like me: he’s been through a bit of bullshit so he’s not too sure on the being too close to people thing, but he loves pats and he seems to love me. I’m not sure what’s going to happen in my life right now. I have a clean slate, I have a whole world ahead of me and I can do what I want with it. And I damn well will do just that. I can do that.

So to all the newly singles out there, cheers to you. And all those in great relationships: appreciate them.

Common, let’s do this.

Stress…just stress.

Stress. My good old buddy stress. I’d like to say we’d parted ways long ago but I doubt that will ever be the case. It’s my fault in part, I did decide to plan an overseas trip at the last moment…but life just likes to throw in all these odd curve balls – good and bad.

Work has been great, too great. I’ve had all these great stories come up but the problem with a whole bunch of good stories is it means a whole bunch of transcribes and council agendas and interviews and after a while the words stop making sense and the pages start spinning. One transcribe, which was from a 30minute long interview, was over 700 words. And all you college kids are whinging about a 3000 word essay. I can write 3000 words in my sleep…no seriously, I’ve started dreaming articles.

Mardy sold, which was fantastic and takes the heat off saving…because lets be honest…I actually had no idea how I was paying for a good 1/3rd of the trip before that. Ivy has gone to her new lease home which is both heart stoppingly nerve wracking and fantastic. For the first time since I started working, I will not be paying grazing…and I actually have time to GROCERY SHOP!

I haven’t done a proper grocery shop, and by proper I mean one where I’m not dodging people while running from isle to isle grabbing what I actually cannot live without frantically from the shelves and flying through the self checkout isle, for more than three weeks. And by what I cannot live without I mean things like almond milk…I ate chips for dinner. According to my tired brain dinner doesn’t count as a necessary component to life.

But back to Ivy…she’s my baby. I’m her person. I’ve had her for the past six years, no one has looked after her for more than two weeks at a time. No one. She is never further than an hour from me. That, and there have only been two other people ride her since I bought her…and I was there the whole time with both. So yes, I’m sort of freaking out.

I also came home to find Casey screaming in pain on Saturday, first time calling an ambulance…yep super fun. Thankfully she is ok and for her sake (and because I value my life) I’m not going to go into details. But hey, at least I already knew my way around a hospital so knew where to park!

And because I love my job and really want to make sure I do everything I need to do before I go, I’m doing bike rides like they’re going out of fashion. My butt is not forgiving me for them.

Oh and Snuggie my cat is still missing after two weeks.

Alex moves this week.

Oh yeah, and I’m leaving the country in four weeks…including this one.

I haven’t even booked my Austria flight! I just want to book the damn flight! And then there is accommodation…deep breaths. Lots and lots of them.

Then I also agreed to do this speaking thing. I’m kind of excited and also really really regretting the decision due to the fact my adrenaline is already pumping at a rate of knots and I’m sick…again.

Not that I really blame my immune system, I’ve sort of put it through hell as of late. My skin is also jumping on the ‘I’m in protest of your life currently’ and throwing a bit of a hissy fit. I don’t blame it really, given I’ve eaten both gluten and dairy in the past week alone and can’t remember the last time I cooked myself a half decent dinner that didn’t include chips or coconut water as a staple item.

Never the less, I am alive. Tired, stressed, but alive.

Headless chicken mode activated.

Hmmm… well… bed?

life

So I burnt my leg…twice. Once on the outside of the oven while cooking my mince after smearing black mascara over my entire left side of my face due to the tears streaming down my face while cutting onions. The other time when I took my chips out of the oven and thought it would be a good idea to stick my thigh right in the way. Teach me for eating bad food.

But you know what, I’m going to eat those delicious fries with sugary tomato sauce and enjoy every second of it while I sit in my bed (with a very sore leg) and eat my dinner I have looked forward to since lunch.

I began my day at 7.40am. I rose to my alarm at 6.20, I said no, I’m going back to sleep. But I couldn’t sleep, so I just got up anyway. I managed to get to work with very few mishaps. I must say, I actually managed today with some skill. I could have split that hot cup of tea all over myself, but instead I spilt it all over the tea towel under the urn. So you know what, today could have been worse.

After finishing a story at 8.30am, clearing some of my emails… the things people send me… and finishing my smoothie I took myself to the council meeting and by 9am I was settled in for a good 10 year plan budget meeting.

I don’t really need to go on. I lost you at council, and if you managed to hang in there for that whole sentence I definitely lost you at ‘budget’. Technology is plotting against me, this I am sure of.

My computer in the office refuses to copy and paste…makes it actually very hard when writing stories and you need to copy over a few facts or a link. My phone is freezing all the time. Then the tablet, after refusing to let me on to my emails, thought I’d much rather write in capitals and refused to do lower case.

You know when you don’t feel like eating salad (I mean more than normal)? That was me today. But because I was in a rush to get my emails working from the office and get lunch and get back to the council meeting in half an hour, I just had to grab a salad on the go. While I feel healthy for it…I’m not overly enthused about the situation.

I want a pie. I really, really want a pie.

Never the less, here I am in bed, after a council meet and great with the communications unit and media (actually was surprisingly good) that finished at 6pm, with my fan going and my door open and still feeling like I’m on a tropical island.

Apparently, Hamilton found summer. And now it’s giving it to us all in one week.

Cherio…

Monday, we’re still not friends, but please stop picking on me

Welcome to Monday

I think every person should come fitted with a tolerance meter.

Total tolerance level: 8 per cent
Tolerance for badly timed jokes: 2 per cent
Tolerance for people: 0 per cent

Personally, I think it would save a lot of people from me mentally slapping them. I started Monday by running late. I then had coffee to cope with my insanity today and my story list that is actually becoming a growing organism and is making my head hurt but the coffee was a mistake because then I started shaking, I then found out half my lunch is missing, not sure how that’s possible. I then thought my day wasn’t hating on me enough so I spilt water all over my desk. Yep, it’s Monday. Can I go back to bed yet?

So because today just isn’t really working out for me and I’m going to be working well into the night, I thought I’d just share these with you.

How-to-maintain-a-healthy-level-of-insanity

Rottenecards_68269175_94wr4bw8dr

Then the smoothie fell

Right, once I’ve blogged I’m sucking it up and throwing myself into my job to take my mind off my ever impending doom that is my inability to cope any longer with emotion.

The year before I left for Hamilton is a bit of a strange one. I can’t really talk about it, not because there are any particular secrets, but because I actually can’t remember most of it. And no, I was not drinking. I’ve never been able to figure out why I can’t remember things that happened that year. I have little snapshots of particular moments, mainly the really hurtful ones, but no normal memories. I’ve heard of people doing that when they suffer a type of trauma, but that’s what confused me even more about it… I didn’t go through trauma?

But people perceive trauma differently.

There was a lot of anger and a lot of yelling. A lot of hate, and certainly not a lot of understanding that year. Between several different people. I shut down when I can’t explain things. I shut down when I can’t cope with an emotion or lack the understanding to deal with it. So, I shut down.

As I do each week, I caught up with an old ‘friend’ from the past. So far, it’s been really good for me to work through things. But, there was always the risk it would drag up the wrong things and the hurt would start all over again.

Then the pub played the stupid song. The song we listened to over and over and over again. I normally have no issue with it, I listen to it every now and then, it’s a good song. But then I said something wrong. And he wasn’t happy. Then we started talking about grandparents. The song, the glimpse of the past disapproval when I opened my mouth and should have thought it through, the grandparents. I just could not keep it together any longer.

You know in the movies when the room starts spinning and their heart races and they suddenly run out because they just can’t handle it all and their chest is closing up and their breath is getting shorter? Yep… that was exactly it… except I burst into tears instead of running out. I think, looking back, running out would have been a much more preferred option.

I was emotional, I tried to say sorry for saying something I shouldn’t have. And then it just fell apart. The anger, the hate, everything I thought we’d got past was right there.

So, then my heart decided to throw this huge hissy fit. I’m tired due to lack of sleep. And I’ve lost all my beta blockers to tell me heart to calm the hell down.

I also managed to jam my little figure in the draw this morning… then spilt smoothie down my entire front, floor, desk, paperwork, and chair at work.

I think… and I don’t often actually do this… I’m giving up on today. We’re just not getting along.

I’m going to take a few deep breaths, change my clothes, do an interview or four, and have a cup of tea. Then I’m going to hide from the world until I am ready to cope again.

#wellthat’sjustlife

Goodbye to the week that’s been

Ok week. We’re done. I am literally digging my way through paper to get to my desk. My nose hurts from sneezing, I am well over tired because my poor brain has had far too much going on; socially and with work. I have spilt one cup of tea, burnt my tongue on two, pissed off an inspector (high ranked policeman), slept through both alarms this morning, and I desperately need to give my hair, nails, legs, face, and so on some attention before I resemble that of a yeti.

So it’s really not that bad.

Compared to others in the office, my day was a good one.

To be honest, I can’t even really sum up this week other than: I think we all need a wine.

On crappy days / weeks that feel like they’re slowly suffocating you, I find the only thing I can do at the end of them is be thankful I’m still alive, and operating. Enjoy the company of good people, or just the cat. Sometimes, it’s not even the cat, just the horse. Grab a glass and bottle of wine, and do something completely and utterly different and unrelated to daily life.

Or even something I just love doing, like sitting in my bed with a hottie bottle and food.

No place like bed.

All the best for your weekends! 

Saving grace

Today, and yesterday, were the kind of days where I have to remind myself to breathe. One, because I need oxygen, two, because I need to relax. Along with a splitting headache and aching stomach, the clear indicator for stress was standing in the kitchen writing stories in my head. 

Stop it brain. Time to shut off. 

But I’ve done enough complaining lately. I actually enjoy working 8.30am to 7pm some days, in a weird way it means I can consume myself in work enough I can forget about all the other things I should be doing. 

Like making friends. Doing sport. Keeping fit. That sort of stuff. 

I realised though, these last few days, just how lucky I am. Today I have been trying really hard to be positive, so here is a list of things I am grateful for:

1) The guy who flashed his lights to warn me of a speed camera so I didn’t end up with another ticket. 

2) The fact it stopped raining when I went to feed my horse.

3) Fantastic people I have met during my interviews lately, these are amazing reminders of why I love my job.

4) Friends who bring me food. Like, there are no words for people like this. I love them more than I can explain. There is simply nothing better than a friend who offers to bring you food when you’ve had a really shitty day and forgot there was this thing called eating which you need to do.

5) Good music, the amount I have found lately has kept me afloat.

6) People to dream with. Even if it is something simple and far off, just having someone to discuss the future and the excitement of it makes me smile. 

7) Having a work car… because I am rather poor.

8) Managing to not crash it even though with this awful weather lately there have been several very close calls. 

9) Having a horse, because sometimes, you just need horse cuddles to make the world seem like a nice happy place.

10) A bed, a roof, a warm house, food, and a job. I don’t think I ever stop and appreciate these things enough. I am so lucky to live in a house, let alone the incredible house I live in, with good people, in a safe country.

So I have a life plan. I have a headache. I didn’t get a speeding ticket. I have managed to actually achieve nearly everything I need to by 10am tomorrow. I have fantastic friends. And my hottie bottle and cup of tea are perhaps some of the more reassuring things after a long day. 

Anyway, what I actually came on here to say was that I have become a far more vulnerable person. While that was very scary at first, it feels good to rely a little more on others and a little less on myself. Bad days are still unpleasant, but when you’re not shouldering the whole world, you feel much more equipped to cope. 

People rock. Good people, are really quite incredible. 

So folks, remember to ask for help when you can’t do it on your own anymore, and remember when to say no when you can’t take it anymore.

But don’t forget to say yes and to lend a hand when you can, because everyone has their turn at feeling like their my paddock in the rain with a horse running up and down it.