(Part 2 of 2)

I started dreaming of horses

When I was 51 years old, my life was falling apart. My 30-plus-year career that I had worked so hard for was coming to an end, and so was my marriage. Little did I know, but my life was about to turn upside down in a devastating way. The flashbacks of the sexual abuse were coming at me fast and hard, and it took an enormous amount of effort to keep pushing those sickening memories out of my head. At that time, I was still living with my soon-to-be ex-husband and kids. Needless to say, it was a very stressful living situation. I was hardly sleeping at night, and every day, I suffered from excruciating migraines, things that I had dealt with since early childhood. My mental health was getting worse with each day that passed. Little did I know, but I was headed for a nervous breakdown.

During this time, a curious thing happened. I started dreaming of horses, brown horses, black horses, white horses, spotted horses, every kind of horse imaginable. Every night, those magnificent creatures appeared in my sleep. Sometimes, in my dreams, I would be in the Old West, just staring at a line of horses tied to hitching posts. I felt like a little kid in a candy shop as I tapped my fingers in glee, trying to decide which horse would be mine.

But, again, I had absolutely no plans to get another horse. None. Other than my grown children, I wanted nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with anything or anyone that would tie me down. Too many years of stress, chronic health problems, an undiagnosed mental illness, and a demanding career had left me depleted mentally and physically. All I wanted in my life was ultimate freedom, a freedom that I had never experienced. And that freedom did not include owning a horse. I couldn’t even wrap my head around that kind of responsibility.

Another curious thing that happened during this time was I started looking at horses on social media. Sometimes, I spent hours scrolling through the various sites. Looking at horses brought me comfort.

One day, as I was scrolling through social media, I saw a horse for sale—a gorgeous Arabian Paint. And let me tell you, it felt like my heart stopped in my chest as I gazed at this image. With his classic Arabian head, brown and white spotted body, and long mane and tail, I just couldn’t stop staring at this beautiful creature. This was one of the most beautiful horses I had ever seen in my life. And he was for sale….After doing a quick check to see where he was located, I found out he was about two hours from me. Didn’t take long before I reached out to the owner to see if I could come out and meet him. Just to look…

I will admit I was afraid

I won’t even go into the details other than to say the rest is history. Exactly two hours and thirty minutes from the time my friend and I made the long trek to go see this horse, I was now the proud owner of a gorgeous Arabian Paint named TwoFace.

I will admit I was afraid. Terrified, in fact. I had lost my career, and the chronic illnesses I had suffered with since childhood, severe insomnia, and daily migraines were preventing me from getting another job. I had no idea how I was going to support myself. But still, I bought a horse.

It was right after I bought TwoFace that I decided to take a vacation to Mexico alone. Even though my finances were slowly dwindling, I took every opportunity to escape the tension in my house, and I often hopped on a plane and went somewhere that was relaxing. The night before I was scheduled to go home, as I lay in bed waiting for sleep to overtake me, suddenly, every flashback I had ever gotten of the sexual abuse flashed in my head like a series of short movies. And it was then that I knew that these were actual memories of abuse from my childhood. I have no words to express the mind-numbing shock and grief I felt when I realized that I had, in fact, been sexually abused for years. As much as I felt betrayed by my mind for forgetting what happened, I also knew that it had done its best to protect me from the trauma that my mind was too young to make sense of. The next day after I got home, I was hospitalized for a nervous breakdown. It was at that time I was diagnosed with CPTSD due to years of childhood trauma.

After I was released from the hospital, I confronted my mother via text about the abuse. I couldn’t even wrap my head around talking to her. Since we lived in different states, phone calls and texting were the way we communicated. After I confronted my mother, she did not utter one word in her defense. In fact, she never answered me. She blocked me. And that spoke volumes. It’s been over seven years since I have had any contact with my mother. To say it is a relief not to have her in my life is an understatement.

I cannot tell you how much my horse, TwoFace, has helped me throughout that most difficult time in my life. I am not sure if I would be alive today if it weren’t for him. He gave me a purpose, a reason to get up and face each day. Every morning when I got up after a restless night of little sleep, my first thought was of my beautiful TwoFace. I just couldn’t believe this magnificent horse was all mine. Twice a day I went to the barn to feed him and clean his stall. And I rode him every chance I could. Riding came back to me naturally, as if I hadn’t skipped a beat.

Shortly after my hospitalization, I started to write about my childhood. As the memories came tumbling back and the painful words spilled out onto the paper, it felt like I was reliving the abuse all over again. At times the pain was almost unbearable. Any time I got overwhelmed by the sickening things that happened to me so long ago, I always knew I could escape to the barn and see my beloved boy for comfort, my anchor in a sea of pain. Without my horse, I don’t believe I would have made it through that time in my life.

I firmly believe that a higher power brought horses to me to help me survive the most vulnerable and terrifying parts of my life. I am forever grateful to these magnificent creatures. Without them, I believe I would have been dead a long time ago due to the abuse.

Whenever I look into TwoFace’s soulful eyes, my heart skips a breath. He is just that beautiful.

Guest Post Disclaimer: Any and all information shared in this guest blog post is intended for educational and informational purposes only. Nothing in this blog post, nor any content on CPTSDfoundation.org, is a supplement for or supersedes the relationship and direction of your medical or mental health providers. Thoughts, ideas, or opinions expressed by the writer of this guest blog post do not necessarily reflect those of CPTSD Foundation. For more information, see our Privacy Policy and Full Disclaimer.

Photo by Raphael Wicker on Unsplash

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Morrene Hauser

Morrene Hauser currently lives in Central Ohio. For a little over 30 years she ran and operated her own business as a court reporter. Upon retirement Morrene started writing about the many wonderful animals she had while growing up and the powerful impact they have had on her life.  Morrene also writes about mental health.