It is languid in the last remaining whiffs of summer, free from the annual ritual of buying books and preparing for another semester of study. But I’m not languid. I feel stuck. stuck behind these binding blinds and stuck behind all the walls that hold me in.

Already I had someone from an employment centre give up on me because I have the social skills of a rock.

This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. I was supposed to learn things, then get a job and then at least ride a horse with a bit more talent for low level dressage a few times per week . I would like to own a horse one day but I don’t think it’s going to happen while living in city.

I now want to be closer to horses, to feel their firm neck against me while I cry. Or just rake out the manure and shavings, at least you don’t really need to interact with people until someone starts fighting for the wheelbarrow.  But I’m in the city and my current situation doesn’t allow for me to work at the barn (lack of transportation, I don’t live close by, the barn is kind of obsessed with cleanliness and I don’t like blowers and my trainer no longer boards horses).

We are not getting younger. I’ll be 24 soon. “My” horse Czar is 26 and though is still sound, is getting arthritic. We are not getting younger. But I don’t seem to be moving anywhere either.

I feared that this will happen, that September will roll around and I’ll have nothing to do.
It did.

I feel like I’m going nowhere, stuck behind the blinds. The world outside is frightful, unknown. I don’t know where I’m going anymore. And I feel stuck, wedged in between the binds that hold me in.

Going nowhere.  Everything feels hopeless at the moment. And I’m not ready.