I have taken a huge break from writing blog pieces. I absolutely love to write - it is something I am extremely passionate about, and something that provides me with a creative outlet. I found myself craving this outlet and it brought me to revisit this blog. My mental health has admittedly taken a negative turn, but I feel that it is time to express this rather than bury it. If you have ever spoken to me before, you would immediately get the impression that I hold myself to immeasurably high standards. As a typical perfectionist, it tears me down a little more every time I just can’t reach these standards. I thrive on success, structure, and specific planning. So, naturally, when everything I planned to happen in the past year crumbled, it absolutely broke me. Although I did not know it at the time, this downward spiral started about a year ago. I had my entire life’s ambitions (quite literally- I was not thinking or feeling beyond this moment) set on going to the University of Florida. I felt that I could not achieve my goals in eventing unless I was near Ocala. I worked incessantly to achieve the highest grades possible (again, quite literally- I had all “A’s” in International Baccalaureate classes). I was granted admission, but no amount of hard work could grant a 17-year-old a six-figure tuition. That was a hard lesson to learn. In a flurry of emotion, I made the quick decision to attend Florida State. I figured that although I had never seen the campus nor knew a single person that attended the school, it was geographically the second-best option in proximity to Ocala. Another quick decision later, I signed myself up for FSU’s Gap Year Program. I had always been extremely focused on my education; I loved school, thrived in the environment, and enjoyed the competitive atmosphere. I did not even take a second to think about what taking away the structure I was so accustomed to would do to my mental stability. However, yet again, I chose to put my heart and soul into horses. At the beginning of August, I watched my friends move to college. I scrolled through the Instagram posts of friends, new campus after new campus and new beginning after new beginning. Instead of joining them, I packed up my life into my horse trailer and moved to Ocala. For a while, my life was going very well. My riding was reaching heights it had never reached before, my horse was going fantastically, and I was getting an abundance of experience working in a fast-paced eventing program. I was enjoying being around my team, and my feelings of being left out of a “normal” life began to ebb away. That changed abruptly when, while cleaning a stall, I received a kick to my right elbow that shattered it on impact. In a haze of mental and physical pain as well as narcotics, I was transported home to Alabama and had surgery. A few weeks later, I began physical therapy. I was itching to go back to Ocala and re-start my year immersed in the eventing world. About a month before I was cleared to ride again, I drove down to visit my horse and barn family. It came as a shock to find that being within ten feet of the place I had my accident or the horses themselves made me almost sick. My injury was severe, but it truly was nothing compared to how much psychological damage that one unfortunate kick had inflicted. The first step was a teary phone call with my coach, officially quitting my beloved job working in Ocala. It was not fair to my team, the horses, or ultimately myself to work in such a fast, highly-functioning environment. I had lost so much of the confidence necessary to handle sport horses, and was not mentally or physically capable of the job any longer. The next step was filling the remaining months of my gap year. I conveniently picked up a job as a Physical Therapy Technician, allowing me to continue strengthening my elbow while working. Over the past couple of months, as the physical pain has slowly slipped away, my confidence has slowly returned. Every quiet evening with my horse, every minute I spend brushing him, every small victory in the saddle, I remember the reasons I fell in love with the sport. While I am still very anxious around horses I am unfamiliar with, and very weak especially at the end of longer rides, I am making huge progress. The step I am struggling with the most is acceptance. As I touched on before, I thrive on structure, but everything I planned fell apart. There are days that the only thing I can think is “why me” - I worked so hard, I wanted it so bad, and my life still ended up being a mess. I am lonely, my life feels pointless sometimes, I feel left behind in my educational track, and I honestly feel like a failure. There are other days that I am optimistic. I am getting real-life experience, I have more time to think about what I would like to do in the future, and saving money. Repeating these thoughts like a mantra is how I am able to function. There is a point to this novel. I have some takeaways that I feel could be helpful. The first is the importance of balance. Every decision I made about my future was centered around horses: UF, FSU, and taking a Gap Year. I did not take a single minute to think about how much I valued my life outside of horses. I thought that my passion for riding was strong enough to outweigh the balance I thrived on. I also believed that any other than an “all or nothing” mindset would mean I was not dedicated. It had not always been this way, but I cannot mark the exact spot on the timeline in which “enjoying the ride” wasn’t enough. I turned up my nose at giving other colleges or futures even the slightest chance. Forget the fact I could be closer to my high school friends, could see parts of the country I had never been to, or could even stay home, near the beaches I so love; horses, and specifically being in Ocala, took over everything. In this state of reflection, I just wish I could have asked myself: “What was the goal”? Even back then, I’m not sure I could have come up with an acceptable answer. The sport will always be a huge part of my life, but never again will I sacrifice the other parts of my life for it. The second takeaway is the importance of not comparing yourself to others, especially when it comes to a timeline of mentally or physically healing. There is irrefutably a stereotype revolving around equestrians and injuries. We see tons of riders get on horses way before they are cleared to ride, we see joking comments on social media about how eventers could probably ride around half a cross country course before noticing their arm had fallen off, you get the gist. I kept wondering why my injury had taken so much more mental strength away from me, why I couldn’t just jump back on a horse, why I was so crushed. I eventually realized that this method of thinking was extremely destructive and was slowing my healing process significantly more. We all recover on different timelines because we all function differently. It does not mean I am any less of a person or horsewoman. My third and final takeaway is probably the hardest one for my perfectionist self to grasp. Some things, so matter how hard you work or how badly you want them to, just don’t fall into place perfectly. There is not always a reason or answer as to why. Sometimes it just doesn’t work out, especially in this crazy sport we love so much. Instead of planning each and every day to a T, I am slowly but surely learning to relax and let things happen to me. This was a long one, but there are a lot of emotions I associate with the past year, and especially the past four months following my injury. Whether or not this even gets read, putting my feelings into black and white has taken a huge weight off my shoulders. Onto brighter days and bigger smiles.
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AuthorErin Lassere Archives
March 2021
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