Tearful autumn chapters

Tomorrow will be a hard day for me. Letting something you love go is very tough, but sometimes it is necessary for greater clarity ahead. 

This summer has been one of letting go. I don't think I have fully let it happen as it should, but I've tried to bare it by taking care of my horses, and writing my heartfelt truth out in my favourite note books.

I've had to accept the things I can do. The things I cannot right now. And re visit the old scrap book within to reveal feelings I thought I'd pressed into the pages forever never to unearth again. 

But life when nursing mental health is never straightforward. If it was, there would be no one struggling right now with their fear hidden behind a smile. 

It really isn't something that can be disguised by a pretty coffee mug and copper plant pot on the internet - all these things beautify the storms in little squares that we admire so much. . . But they hide the daily honesty of the consequences of mental well being. It is a very fragile line, that of aesthetic and authenticity. 

Tomorrow I must say good bye to one of my horses. A little angelic creature who has shown me so much kindness as I ploughed forwards to create a business that meant so much to me. 

We did. It was magical. But, our sparkle ran out along the way. 

At times like this, no amount of will power can make everything better and throw you straight back to working, living and doing as you did before. Mental well being will not allow you to simply paper over the cracks. We haven't been able to restore ourselves in time. 

But, in being brave and letting something I care for go back to someone who can manage, and can give more than me. . . I know we will all be okay despite the little tugs at my heart strings, as one chapter closes and another open ups. 

Hold everything you love tightly and let it leave a loving and lasting impression on you, for always.

I shall do just that. . . . 

Time to dust off our wellies now, and kick up the first fallen leaves of this new season. Farewell to our summer sadness. . . We're going to let the light in again through the golden trees . . . Xx