"We live and breathe words"

Day One Hundred and Sixty Seven

Goodbye, Charlie Brown

I never thought I'd be saying goodbye to this horse, but that's what I spent my morning doing. Charlie is being sold. I have no choice in this and I can't buy him myself. So goodbye is the only option left.

I honestly don't know what to say because I'm writing this through bleary eyes. Charlie is my boy. He always has been and he always will be; even when I first got him and we hated each other-he was my boy. Mine. 

I can't thank him enough for everything he's given me, for the laughs, the scars, the tears and the memories. I can never repay him, and I am eternally greatful to have ever had the pleasure of knowing him. Sometime in the future I'll write a proper post for him.

Goodbye, Beast. Have a fantastic life. You deserve it. I'll see you again, one day...I promise.

Day One Hundred and Sixty Six

I had my first driving lesson today which was...interesting. I didn't crash or stall which was my achievment of the year. It's weird to think that I'm old enough to be in charge of a car...and to drive it.

Plans for the Summer

Group work and social anxiety in school

(So not quite what I said I'd talk about,m but after today I feel as if I need to discuss it)

It's often talked about how if you break your leg, you are not forced to do P.E in school, so if you have social anxiety, why are you forced to do group work and presentations.

And I feel that that pretty much summed up today. We were forced to work in groups today, put into groups with people we don't know, and told we have to work with them for the next six weeks, and then give a presentation to the entire class at the end.

So of course my heart was pounding as my teacher assigned us to groups, because I have mild social anxiety, and to put it simply, I hate working with people I don't know. Luckily I've been put in a group with 2 boys who, although I don't know, seem nice enough, but that's besides the point.

Teachers don't seem to understand that there are students in their class with mental illnesses, and social anxiety is one of them. Forcing students to work with people they don't know because you think "it'll be good for [them] to get used to working with people they don't know" is just plain wrong.

And I understand that in the 'real world' you're going to have to do things that you might not enjoy doing, but if you have a mental illness then you're not going to get yourself into a situation where you could further damage your mentality, in the same sense that if you have a broken leg, you're not going to run a marathon because you know it will only make things worse.

Mental illness is an under-discussed topic. And I mean real mental illness. I don't mean people that claim they have depression because they're a little bit sad, or someone that claims they're schizophrenic because they thought they heard someone whispering once. Mental illness is a serious topic and it's undermimed by idiots claiming they're mentally ill over the smallest of things, but mental illness needs to be made aware of.

A back-to-school haiku.

No no no no no,

no no no no no no no,

You know you're growing up when your mum hands you a 'Theory Test and The Highway Code' book and tells you to study. 

I'm not overly excited about the prospect of driving, which is probably down to the fact that once I've learnt to drive, I still won't have a car, but still, I know it's soething necessary to do, I just wish I didn't have to revise for it.

You'd think after my exams finished I wouldn't have to go back to school for the summer and I wouldn't have to learn 963 theory questions in order to pass a simply part of my driving test. I'm not impressed.

But there we go.

It's weird how a simple split second of luck can be the difference between life and death. 

There was an incident at work today where I was trying to get a 3 year old boy onto one of our ponies, when the pony all of a sudden reared vertically, ran back on his hind legs, went down and then reared up again and threw himself backwards into the stable block behind, smashing down on the solid, wooden flower bed. 

And it was terrifying, for me, the the little boy, for his parents, for everyone around. I thought the pony has broken his leg when he wouldn't put weight on it and the boy wouldn't stop screaming.

And the thing is, if that pony hadn't run backwards on his hind legs then he would have landed down on my head, and I would have been killed. If that little boy was a split second faster in getting on, then when the pony fell backwards, the little boy would have been killed. You see where I'm going with this.

I don't believe in fate, but I do believe in luck and I know that everyone involved was extremely lucky today. The whole thing could have been so much worse.

How brittle our bones, How weak our bodies. Our fragile minds cannot handle the truth So we tear into the flesh; our skin offering little protection from objects designed by our own hands.

As tears stain our cracked faces Fallen from losing eyes A mantra is whispered Flowing with the river, red Again and again As our soul fades As light turns to dark

Day One Hundred and Fifty Seven

Film review: Byzantium

* *

Bitter dissaopintment would be the best way to describe my reaction to this film. I don't really know what to say...it wasn't at all scary, it wasn't sad, it wasn't funny, it wasn't uplifting, the effects were apalling and the sotry-line downright confusing and pointless. There was too much going on throughtout the film which meant that plot lines weren't developed enough and I was constantly left wanting more. For a long film, there was an awful lot of nothing. The only thing they had in abundance was fake blood, but the quality of that was so poor I was embarassed for the props department.

The only redeeming part of this film is down to the acting of Saoirse Ronan who made such an apallingly written character a person who I felt sorry for and I felt for her chracter throughout the film.

Day One Hundred and Fifty Six

A long time ago, I made this post about Chezzy, one of our oldest residents at work who will most likely not make it to the end of the year. Well today, Chezzy went back to his old owners, who are going to let him spend his last Summer out in the sunshine, and then have him put to sleep the beginning of winter so that he doesn't suffer. So this is simply a goodbye to Chezzy, because we won't see him again.

Goodbye to the crazy old man with his nutty habits and mush filled mouth. Goodbye to the crazy old man with the hundreds of nicknames and the fence-post back. Goodbye to the crazy old man who put the youngsters to shame but couldn't handle the rabble. Goodbye to the crazy old man, loved by so many and remembered by all. 

Day One Hundred and Fifty Five

A song I've been listening to over and over: OneRepublic-I Lived.

I was having a pretty bad week when I first listened to this song, so it instantly had a lot of meaning for me and ever since, I've been addicted. 

It's uplifting without being over the top and it's sad withouth being depressive. It's a song that makes you appreciate life and the small things that make us know that we're alive. It's like when you sit in silence with nothing but the sound of your breathing. It has the same affect. I could, and have been, listneing to this song over and over bevcause it reminds me of the joy of being alive.

I was told today that I could be riding professionally, that I should be riding professionally, getting paid for doing something that I love, and that's a weird concept.

I love working with horses, I love bringing on horses and seeing the imrpovement in them because of what I've done, and many times over the years I've been asked to school someones horse for them, but I've never thought about doing it for money before. 

And I'm beginning to consider it. I'm thinking that if, after I've learnt to drive, I can get a car to be able to travel to yards, save up the money I make to put towards doing my BHS exams which then means I can charge more for schooling and I can actually make a small business out of it.

I can easily set up a website for advertisement and I'll still keep going with Charlie and with my work at the riding school, it's only an idea at the minute, but it is something that I think I would enjoy doing, and I'm never going to complain about extra cash.

Day One Hundred and Fifty Two

I miss Lilly. 'Woop, another Lilly post' I hear you all sigh sarcastically. And that's ridiculous, because she was never my horse but I miss her like crazy and I never realised just how much I missed her until today.

I was at work, walking through the corridor and I heard someone say "Excuse me, are you Emily?", so I turned around and said yeah, and they said "Lilly's Emily?", so obviously I said yes, and they started telling me how they'd seen her today and for some reason, I got really upset just talking about her. Because I miss her.

And it then dawned on me, when I was at work, how much I look for Lilly when I'm there, How I glance at her old stable whenever I walk past, how I never muck out the court yard anymore because she's not there, how I'm no longer jumping to defend her or eagerly saying I'll wash Lilly when we're bathing all the horses...

I miss her not being around the corner from my house, I miss not being able to cycle the ten minute journey just to give her a cuddle.

Day One Hundred and Fifty One

Book review: Do the Birds Still Sing in Hell? by Horace 'Jim' Greasley

* * * * *

*Hyperventilates*

As a rule, I don't like autobiographies, but this is an exception. This has to be one of the best books I've ever read and Horace Greasley was not only a fantastic writer with an incredible memory, but a complete and utter bad-ass.

His story isn't your typical POW re-cap of death and destruction, it's a love story, a story of friendship, of passion, of fear and of hope. It's a story about heroes.

I was enthralled with Horace's story from page one and I couldn't put the book down. Never before have I followed a story so closely, soaking up every word, cheering along with Horace and his little victories one minute and then sobbing my heart out the next. I was on the edge of my seat, desperate to find out more and more. 

The way the story is told is absolutely breath-taking, you learn of the horrors these men faced, but it's not a depressing War story. It's inspirational. It's given me faith in the strength of humanity.

There's talk of this book being turned into a film and I'm actually really happy about it because I want everyone to know Horace's story, and the story of his comrades. It needs to be told. It needs to be seen. We need to remember these heroes.