Truth. It sucks.
Reality sucks as well a lot of times.
Reality is I have to be careful the rest of my life.
Truth is I have to be careful the rest of my life in a different way. Truth is me admitting I have nerve damage. Truth is I do not have many falls left in me. Truth is me admitting I became am an alcoholic after I began an eating disorder. Truth is I denied it and denied my horse the opportunity to reach his potential. Truth is I ate ONE real meal a week and had to purge that even. Truth is I fit a size 3 Levi's Skinnies at 30 pounds more than I weighed 2 years ago. Truth is my marriage with DIB is failing because of my fight with all of it.
Truth is I am failing at life on an emotional level. Truth is I didn't know I neglected the fur-kids, or beastie, or Mom. Truth is I was not the bestest MOH for my sister's wedding even though I really did try. Truth is that a few weeks ago I tried to hang myself in the closet of my bedroom with a leather leash and only had a detectable pulse in few places when DIB found me, saved me. Truth is the industry almost killed me, even after I left.
And that is why I have not ben here. Four job offers later I'm working on a PR position and a server/bartender job. I am still finding who I am and who beastie deserves to be.
I love writing, a lot. Novels (fiction and Non), passages, poems, vignettes, reading....all of it. I love history, I love challenge, excitement, freedom, roller coasters of life, experiences, risk, adrenaline, ands most of all honesty.
I am an addict of all of those things. The rush of racing, the freedom and honesty of alcohol abuse, the joy of helping others, the simplicity and difficulty-like contraction of riding.
I have a story to tell a tough 30 days later and am ready to tell it. I just hope I live to tell it.
