D. F. Krieger

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

If Wishes Were Horses

I've been super quiet...So quiet, in fact, I started to scare people. I'll admit it, I've been hiding from the world this past month.

I've blogged and blogged about depression. How one of the greatest signs of depression is the lack of desire to socialize at all. I've also said that the best way to fight it is to do exactly that...SOCIALIZE.

It wasn't only depression that made me go quiet. First it was the fact that I'm writing book 3 in the Faxfire Series. Butterflies in the Bakery has been the hardest one to write thus far. I don't have near as much done as I should (aka it's supposed to be done already, and I'm still writing it.) I was an idiot and thought I had until the 31st of March to do it, but I found out I was wrong, it was due March 1st. That tripped me up BIG TIME.

Now, cue both mine and my husband's cars breaking down in the same week and costing a pretty penny to fix. After they were fixed, not a week passed by and someone backed into my husband's car and busted his radiator. Fortunately, this time there was no out of pocket expense on us, but still he had to use my car so he could go to work and attend his college classes while the insurance company fixed it. *Sigh*

Now, add my new position as Editor in Chief for Breathless. Tons of responsibility, and it seems like every time I'd sit down to work on my own writing, something would come up. Finally, I put my foot down and chose a Friday where I and my family agreed I would spend the day getting as much wordage put down as possible...

Know what I did instead? I spent the whole day in vet clinics having to take two separate cats to an emergency visit. One of the cats (a foster kitten for the humane society) didn't make it. The other, my husband's Egyptian Mau, came out just fine and is healthy as can be.

I apologize to everyone but there's one more thing I've been holding close and keeping quiet about. On March 27th, 2010, I lost my mother unexpectedly. She was my best friend and a good deal of my daily activities involved her. Phone calls while cooking dinner, grocery shopping, gardening. My mother lived directly across the road so visits were daily, and interactions were constant. When I lost my mom, I not only lost my best friend, I also lost a major social point in my life. The phone never rings anymore. There's no one to talk to about the kid's day, or what I'm cooking for dinner (and we'd often laugh as we realized we were cooking the same thing.) The gap is present daily. It's like a black hole that eats me alive, little by little. I do my best to be strong, to smile, and give my family and friends everything I have, but I will always miss my mom.

I tend to go into major depressive slumps on the anniversary of her death. I was the one who called the ambulance. I was the one who had to call my step dad and tell him his wife was dead. I was the one who held my 14 year old little brother as he screamed and cried that our mother was dead. Those are images, emotions; memories you can't shake. They keep you up at night and haunt you.

This year, I did my best to avoid it. I didn't say a word to my husband or kids, who were blissfully unaware. I didn't want them to hurt or feel uncomfortable. I decided I would go out to a stable where I've recently been taking riding lessons and put a holding fee on a stall so I could pursue getting a horse again. Doing it gave me a sense of progress on a day that threatened to drag me into a pit of despair.

When I spoke with the owner and co-owner, I explained to them I didn't have a horse yet. I was trying to ensure I had somewhere to place it before I bought one. After they listened to me, they told me something I couldn't believe. They were willing to sell me the mare I've been taking lessons on. I was elated. I already knew I trusted her, and she's not very old (only 9). She's the perfect height for me, and needs someone to love her as much as I need to give that love.

They say to get something wonderful, you must pay it forward. I'd like to think my month from hell was Karma's way of ensuring I could endure (even if she does hold a grudge against me for creating Zane.) Having a horse of my own is a dream I've held close and carried since the moment I knew what to call them. The day I purchased her was still painful, but her entering my life permanently almost felt like the world's way of saying, "You've suffered enough. Take some respite in this."

That being said, I've named her Destiny.
That's not me in the photo, and I don't ride English, but this is the only photo I have of my new horse right now. She has one blue eye and one brown one, and though you can't see it in the picture, she is actually a roan (which means she has little white flecks all over her coat.)

One other bit of good news: Wolves and Warrants has officially released. I hope you all enjoy reading it while I furiously scribble away on the next book, due to release in just a few months.

Thank you again, to everyone who stood by my side even while I was hiding. Each and every one of you mean more to me than you'll ever know.  ~ D. F. Krieger


Doris O'connor said...

I'm sniffing a little now and sending you hugs.

So glad you got your horse x

Stephanie said...

You made a great choice. What a nice mare. Horses help heal your soul. Have fun riding.

L.B.Shire said...

I'm so excited for you! Congratulations on your horse, what a wonderful thing! Horses are an inspiration in so many ways. Hope you post some pics when you have time!

Anonymous said...

Shawnee wants you to know that you both have a lot in common. You are just amazing and I'm grateful you're in this world. Whoops I mean me-- I mean Shawnee! I mean... Sigh. :) xoxo

Persephone Jones said...

Sorry you've been having some rough times. I've been weathering a few myself. Don't suffer alone. You've got more friends than you know.

Jennifer Lynne said...

Depression is a silent disease, isn't it? I know first hand. So glad you were able to find your Destiny at a such a difficult time. Hugs, Deadra xxoo

Autumn Jones Lake said...

Sorry you've been going through so much. I hope Spring brings goodness and some time with the new horse - she is beautiful!

Ann Harrison said...

You have the uncanny ability to make me tear up Deadra.
I cried for sixteen years when my Dad died, we were as close as could be so I totally understand where you are coming from. I just wish I was closer so I could give you a hug and rub gentle circles on your back while pushing a plate of choc chip cookies your way.
But I'm not so you will just have to imagine it.
You know where I am if you need me, take care and grow stronger every day.

Ann Harrison said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Mel Jolley said...

Thanks for sharing what must be very painful for you. I hope your beautiful new Destiny eases some of the strain in your life. X M