Part 1 of the Black Years
Part One of Amanda's Wright's Story
The timeline for the following story was actually before Erin came here but it was during this time that both Erin and Amanda were doing their grooming to assure they could live here. The story paints a vivid picture of my condition and exposes the ruthlessness of some of the individuals. It may seem inconsequential in the big scheme of things but these events had a disheartening impact on me that I certainly didn't realize at the time. It is in looking back that I have come to understand how things got to where they are. No one could endure so much without it taking a toll.
Last year I went to the Spring Daffodil Horse Show with my friend Sheryl and Amanda met us there. I really didn't have the strength to do this but I had not missed a Spring Daffodil Horse Show in the 20 years I have shown horses. As weak as I was, I couldn't bear the thought of missing that show. To do so would have been another blow to my already damaged psyche. Even if I couldn't stay long, just getting there would help me see there was a light at the end of the tunnel that was trying to cave in on me.
Sheryl came and picked me up but just the ride to the fairgrounds was exhausting. The walk to the arena made me question the sanity of my decision to come to the horse show but I was there and too exhausted to get myself back to the car so it only made sense to watch the show.
I was still having difficulty sitting in an ordinary chair so the harsh angle of the bleacher type seating of the Paulhamus Arena was a special type of torture. I had brought pillows and a lap robe but they were not enough to protect me from the discomfort. The cold morning air sent my pain levels spiraling upward but I was still glad to be there.
There was a break between the in-hand classes and the under saddle ones so I used the opportunity to go to the restroom. On the way there I did get a chance to visit briefly with some friends, the Hat Lady, Barb Obritz and my doctor friend, Randy Sorum. None of them knew about my illness so all were relieved to see me when they heard my story even though it was clear I was still very weak.
By the time I actually made it to the ladies room, I was pretty wobbly. I intended to be in and out quickly so I could back to the stands to rest. While I was washing my hands, Crystal Baker came in and made a big production out of seeing me. She loudly called out my full name and grabbed me in a bear hug all the while looking over her shoulder to the doorway.
I could tell from her behavior she was up to something. Crystal and I have never been on hugging terms. To my way of thinking we were now no longer on speaking terms after what she'd done here. We had not spoken since she'd taken credit for our clean bill of health from AC. I guess I should have realized she was too arrogant to accept that I had caught her at her game. She was certainly playing it now since Angie Miller was coming through the door just in time to see exactly what Crystal intended her to see....a warm greeting between friends. Again trading on my name, she wanted Angie to think she was in tight with me..... Again taking advantage of my poor health to further her personal agenda. I wanted to puke!
I couldn't get myself out of her deceitful arms fast enough. I did catch a glimpse of Angie's startled, uncomfortable reaction as I freed myself from this unwelcome invasion of my personal space. I had to steady myself against the massive sink because of the effort it took me to extricate myself from her clutches.
I am not known for public outbursts and that didn't change in this situation although I would had preferred to do anything but what I did. Instead I made a polite excuse so I could escape but I sure didn't feel like being polite. I really wanted to scream. Thankfully Sheryl emerged from s bathroom stall and realized what was happening. She took my arm and guided me out of there and safely to a seat in the courtyard. Then she shielded me from Crystal until I had enough strength to make it back to the arena.
I really wanted to watch my class, the 50 & over purebred western pleasure adult amateur owner to ride. This class was my whole reason for coming to the show in the first place. Even with all of this I didn't want to miss it but I was emotionally and physically drained. Without Sheryl's help I never would have made it.
Amanda was really nowhere to be found in all of this. There was nothing to be gained in walking me to the rest room. Had she realized I would be meeting friends or needing rescuing, I think she would have been right there making sure people knew she was with me. I might add that Amanda would deny she wanted to be in the middle of things but there is plenty of proof to the contrary and it is typical behavior for such people to claim they are not what they are.
After the class was over, we left the horse show. I was visibly shaking from exhaustion. As I stood my friend, Sheryl, took my arm and so Amanda took the other. Even then perfect strangers were trying to assist as I made my way down the stairs that lead out of the arena. I must have been a sight to evoke such concern. I didn't want to believe I was that weak or that I looked that bad but it was hard to deny my condition when I was getting more attention from those around me than the horse show.
There is no parking allowed on the fairgrounds so I still needed to make it across the courtyard, through the barns and across the street to the parking lot. It sounds easy enough but it was fraught with complications. This walk I have always taken for granted now was overwhelming and that was not even taking into consideration those who would not be happy to encounter me. Falling was not my biggest obstacle.....breaking my heart was. How many times can a broken heart bleed? I was about to find out.
To be continued......
An Unexpected Encounter at Daffodil.......