The Scampering Horse

I didn't end up writing a family Christmas letter this year, because writing the glossed over Christmas letter felt fake. In reality, this year was very difficult for me emotionally, spiritually, and socially. I faced the most difficult depressive episode I have ever faced in my life. It was longer, more intense, and lower than I've ever had before. In addition to depression, I had to deal with a social situation that both exacerbated the depression and created a learning experience all its own. I experienced social anxiety and panic attacks for the first time. Dealing with healing and letting go of relationships, all the while having my actions or inactions, words or lack thereof being looked at, judged, and then retold to me through the microscope of my small town added another layer of confusion, guilt, and difficulty in navigating my mental health/social/spiritual recovery. The year was hard. It pushed me in directions I didn't naturally move in. It made me miss...

My first love was the summer of my sixteenth birthday.   My interests growing up leaned towards the active side.  I am more alive when I feel the sun beating on me, smelling pine trees or creosote traveling on the wind, and hearing the birds chattering.  We had so much fun every meal in the dining hall with friends and watching the stars at night. It was a blissful, carefree summer. He taught me how to talk, and not be afraid of myself.  My second love was my senior year in high school. So many long talks and late nights. I loved his laugh.  I loved looking at him.  I loved how smart he was.  He had a girlfriend, and didn't ask me to our Grants High School senior prom, too offenses for which I will never forgive him for. I was an all consuming jealous. He taught me patience. I met my third and fourth loves my first year of college in Thatcher, Arizona. I loved Ian first. He was my brother’s roommate and my best friend t...