My name doesn't matter. The horse is Justice, but that doesn't matter either. This is our story.
In about Febuary 2008, I self harmed for the first time. Sitting here over a year later I put it down to the beginning of some very unfortunate circumstances.
I'm an avid racing fan, and am the no.1 fan of Apache Cat. The day he won the Lightning Stakes, I had to go to a wedding. To top it off, I wore a dress. I hate dresses, I think a skirt is pushing it, but I wore a dress. It started out ok the wedding. But then these to girsl caught sight of me.
In past times, I was later told, I was friends with these girls. They didn't remember me, nor did I remember them. It didn't stop them picking on me.
They laughed at me all night, threw things at me, and told people a lot of crap about me. It seemed so much worse that day. I cried. Cried because it hurt and because I'd missed a special horse win an important race.
Apache's next race was to be in two weeks time, so I focused on that.
That monday I got a birthday party invitation. Turned out that party was on the same day as Apache's next race, and his last race in Melbourne until November. When I told Mum, she got mad at me for putting the race first saying "I'm not letting a horse get in the way of a friendship". I just walked away and cried. Thinking about how Apache wasn't just
a horse and that the friendship in question hadn't quite been the same for quite some time.
It was when I sat in my room that summer's afternoon that the marks first appeared on my arm.
If the other girl's at school noticed, they didn't say anything. A teacher noticed though, and he did everything.
That was the point where it all went wrong, where the demons long pushed away in my mind finally got out and everything just went to shit, for lack of a better word.
Less than a month later my grandfather died, after a four year battle with alzheimers and dementia. I remain strong in my opinion that the nursing home killed him, but thats another story.
Things went up and down constantly, I was never quite happy and my grief was often fuelled by the constant complaints from my tendons. In july the previous year a box was dropped on the back of my ankle. The box shouldnt have caused two years of problems, but it has. My ankle healed (sort of) on its own after the doctor's at the Children's Hospital simply went "Well, we don't know". But by that point my wrists were taped up, and most recently my patella tendon has gone.
Taping my wrists started 'emo' and 'self harm' rumours. They weren't far off the mark about the self harm, but I wonder "who could possibly be stupid enough to place adhesive tape over a wound?". I've never harmed my wrists in any way, shape of form.
In late august last year, I got a volunteer position in a well known racing stable. It was a turning point, somewhere where I became strictly me. I made lots of new friends, friends I'll never forget, but most importantly I met Justice here.
When I met Justice, he was just an average horse, a pretty one, but average. He didn't walk, he pranced and trotted, tucking his nose into his chest. I liked him from day one.
I walked this horse, and stood with him while he picked at the grass every sunday for two months. The sunday before his first race the foreman was alarmed to find that I was walking him. It seems Justice has a vile history, but I've never seen that side to him. Point was, Justice was behaving.
He ran 5th in that race. He got out too late to gain ground, I wasn't too disappointed, just glad he got to the track. The jockey assured us he'd win his next race. When we got home during the afternoon shift in the stable, the foreman laughed because the horse and I stood quietly side by side. That was when he truly did become
'my' horse. Everyone knows he's mine now.
At his second race, he ran second. He should of won, but he near shat himself when the eventual winner flew past him. They decided on blinkers for his next race.
Less than a week later, Justice was gone. Injured. He strained a suspensory ligament.
That hurt.
Five long months later, he came back. He still knew me, he still loved grass, he still pranced around, still was Justice. Only this time he was a gelding.
On tuesday, Justice ran second in a trial. They like him now, they think he's got a pretty good future. I like him too. I wouldn't care if he didn't have a future. But he does, and that's a bonus.
Together Justice and I are going somewhere. Justice will follow me to recovery, and I will follow him to the races.
Please check back regularly for stories about him, and stories about me, and stories about us. I think our story needs telling, but for a story to be told there needs to be an audience.
Bye for now, but not forever!
