... Or, if you live in New England, you get to say "I am wicked Sobah" which is fun.
Part of my equestian journey, a big part, actually, is closely linked to my sobriety. December 2014 marked 7 years of continuous sobriety for me. It is my biggest achievement to date, and the one that I am most proud of.
I was always kind of an awkward kid, one that got along better with adults than my own peers. Being a big horse nerd certainly did not help my social status. I was the kid cantering up and down the soccer field. I could not fathom why my teammates cared so much about getting a stupid ball in a net when it was clearly much more fun to pretend to be riding.
My social awkwardness did not improve as I got older. It was as if there was a manual to life that other kids had that I did not. It was painfully uncomfortable to be me. I felt like I was walking through the world without skin on.
All that changed when I picked up booze. Alcohol was magic. It was an escape, an excuse, a way to be cool and tough and free from the constant misery of being stuck inside my own head.
But when I discarded the parts of myself I hated, I also set aside the good parts, the parts that made me who I was. One of those things was riding. Drinking on the weekends became my #1 priority. What we were going to do, where we were going to drink, how I was going to afford it became my main focus.
I lost more than a decade of my life to alcoholism. I only knew how to do two things well: Work and Drink. I woke up at 30 and realized I was desperately unhappy. I no longer knew who I was, and I wasn't exactly sure how I had gotten to the place I was in. Two months after my 30th birthday, I admitted defeat. I asked for help.
Getting sober was not always easy, but I it was the best thing I have ever done. I have made peace with my past. I can look back and say I have no regrets. Those years almost seem like a dream, like they happened to someone else.
Today, I am happier than I ever was at any point in my past. I have a life that is second to none. I often tell my husband, if absolutely nothing changed for the next 60 years, I would be happy. I think I appreciate what I have now more, because of what I did go through.
The only twinge I ever get is thinking about all those years I lost sitting in a bar when I could have been riding. The rider I could be today if I had never quit. But it doesn't haunt me. You can look back at your past, just don't stare.
|Life is better through red ears :)|