[Dhana dhan dham dham~!]
Fear is a bizarre thing.
Yesterday I got kicked by a horse. Twitchy flipped his shit over my hat while I was leading him up to pasture - he knocked it off my head with his own stupid face and went absolutely apeshit - and landed a glancing blow on my upper leg. I have a huge pink-and-purple bruise shaped like the edge of a hoof and a sore leg from this animal who could very easily have killed me without a second thought.
But when he went nuts, I held the fuck on to him. It took me a good fifteen seconds to realize my leg hurt like a motherfucker, because priority one was calming down the fucking horse and getting out of his way. If I hadn't reacted so quickly - letting the lead rope out as far as it went so he could circle and dodging around front - he might have landed a direct hit somewhere softer than my leg, which thankfully is the part of the body probably best-equipped to get the shit kicked out of it. It actually occurred to me, as I was slowly approaching him to calm him down, that I should have been way more terrified, considering I was the only one on the farm and if he had decided to lose it again, there would have been no one around to hear me yell. I mean, I was shaking, but in a WHOA SHIT ADRENALINE kind of way, not a WHOA SHIT I COULD HAVE DIED way.
I calmed that horse the fuck down (they pick up on emotions, so I had to calm myself down pretty damn quick) and limped him up to pasture, leaving my hat on the ground behind me. In two days I will lead Twitchy the same route to pasture again, and so on twice a day for the rest of the summer. The thought of this really doesn't alarm me.
This morning, I will go to the oral surgeon's office, and he will put a needle in my arm and put me under, and while I feel absolutely nothing he will take out my wisdom teeth in a procedure that he has performed dozens of times before, in a carefully controlled, sterile environment of trained professionals who will kindly explain to me exactly what they're going to do beforehand.
And yet, I would take ten mornings of dealing with huge, volatile animals who could kill me at one shot over going to the oral surgeon's this morning. I'm terrified.
Jesus, I need to get my priorities straight. |D
But in a way, dealing with the fear is easier now that I have something actually scary to compare it to. I keep telling myself that this is, compared to possible Death By Twitchy, not a big deal. It helps. I will go get my wisdom teeth out, and I will deal with being put under even though the thought petrifies me, and I will tell myself that this is a dumb thing to be this afraid of and before I know it it will be over.
Wish me luck, guys!
(Sidenote: I am extremely grateful for the human body's ability to dodge around a huge flailing animal without letting go of it while the brain is still wondering where its hat went. Primal instincts fuck yeah.)
Yesterday I got kicked by a horse. Twitchy flipped his shit over my hat while I was leading him up to pasture - he knocked it off my head with his own stupid face and went absolutely apeshit - and landed a glancing blow on my upper leg. I have a huge pink-and-purple bruise shaped like the edge of a hoof and a sore leg from this animal who could very easily have killed me without a second thought.
But when he went nuts, I held the fuck on to him. It took me a good fifteen seconds to realize my leg hurt like a motherfucker, because priority one was calming down the fucking horse and getting out of his way. If I hadn't reacted so quickly - letting the lead rope out as far as it went so he could circle and dodging around front - he might have landed a direct hit somewhere softer than my leg, which thankfully is the part of the body probably best-equipped to get the shit kicked out of it. It actually occurred to me, as I was slowly approaching him to calm him down, that I should have been way more terrified, considering I was the only one on the farm and if he had decided to lose it again, there would have been no one around to hear me yell. I mean, I was shaking, but in a WHOA SHIT ADRENALINE kind of way, not a WHOA SHIT I COULD HAVE DIED way.
I calmed that horse the fuck down (they pick up on emotions, so I had to calm myself down pretty damn quick) and limped him up to pasture, leaving my hat on the ground behind me. In two days I will lead Twitchy the same route to pasture again, and so on twice a day for the rest of the summer. The thought of this really doesn't alarm me.
This morning, I will go to the oral surgeon's office, and he will put a needle in my arm and put me under, and while I feel absolutely nothing he will take out my wisdom teeth in a procedure that he has performed dozens of times before, in a carefully controlled, sterile environment of trained professionals who will kindly explain to me exactly what they're going to do beforehand.
And yet, I would take ten mornings of dealing with huge, volatile animals who could kill me at one shot over going to the oral surgeon's this morning. I'm terrified.
Jesus, I need to get my priorities straight. |D
But in a way, dealing with the fear is easier now that I have something actually scary to compare it to. I keep telling myself that this is, compared to possible Death By Twitchy, not a big deal. It helps. I will go get my wisdom teeth out, and I will deal with being put under even though the thought petrifies me, and I will tell myself that this is a dumb thing to be this afraid of and before I know it it will be over.
Wish me luck, guys!
(Sidenote: I am extremely grateful for the human body's ability to dodge around a huge flailing animal without letting go of it while the brain is still wondering where its hat went. Primal instincts fuck yeah.)