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Losing My Cool
Hey horses, meet high-conflict divorce
I’m too exhausted to play his game.
You know how sometimes conflict can simmer and think about boiling over, but just hasn’t yet? The stress of wondering when it will blow, trying to do everything right, hyper-alert for the slightest bubble- the least indication that the temperature is rising…
Well, yesterday it boiled over.
Scenario: The big day- moving the last two (Chance and Pony) of my four horses off of the marital property, which went to the Wisher-King, ie. my ex-husband. Neither of us acted like good people then. I’d argue that I have truly moved forward, that he has not. But I will leave you to your own judgment, because I hear that we don’t always see our own selves as objectively as we should!
So, the the first two became the last. Of course, I should have seen this coming! I should’ve known. Maybe I needed the cathartic release of the blowout.
The horses are mine, along with all of their tack and gear, so says the divorce decree. Other then my own belongings from the house, that’s all I took. When I decided to move them, it was a given that I also take the equipment that was purchased or acquired exclusively because I had them. The tack, the tools, the fence, the water tank, the wheelbarrow, the equine medical…