Sharing the more vulnerable aspects of my disease has always been difficult, but I am trying to push myself out of my comfort zone. After learning that, although few share my exact daily struggles, there are others who suffer through similar difficulties, I want to share whatever may help someone find solidarity. The below picture is what my nailbeds look like after my semi-regular trimming back of the hardening, breaking skin surrounding my nails due to mild sclerosis (one of the symptoms tying my Undifferentiated Connective Tissue Disease to potential Scleroderma or Lupus).

Two sides of myself are constantly engaged in a battle for dominance. In the first corner, we have my Horse Self, the Allie I’ve been for the last two decades of my life: the horse-crazy girl who studied equine care daily during seven years of 4-H; the homeschooled kid who checked out every single horse book at every library near me at least twice with two bookshelves filled at home; the athlete competing and showing during high school; the young adult majoring in Equine Science; the owner and caretaker of horses during my entire conscious life. My Horse Self knows each step of good horsekeeping by heart and what decisions are recommended or necessary to keep my horse healthy, happy, and sound.

In the second corner, we have my Health Self, the Allie I only became acquainted with in the last five years or so, of whom I am still discovering new traits and challenges every day. My Health Self knows that I have to take steps to limit sun exposure, avoid extreme heat or cold temperatures, eliminate certain foods from my diet, manage my energy reserves, avoid stress, and find physical and mental accommodations where possible. And while any horse person will tell you that these things sound pretty incompatible with the Horse World, my Health Self is also very conscious of Harriet's own limits as well.

My little NightMare is the most intensive test of patience and perseverance I have met thus far. While growing up, my hardy little curly pony Prince was the definition of an easy keeper: throw a saddle on him, stick him in a paddock, get all the mud out of his coat, toss him whatever hay is available, and he is good to go. Harriet's physical and emotional needs have often been the only thing able to motivate me through my own physical challenges, pulling the needs of my Horse Self ahead of the constraints of my Health Self. While I may opt out of a short, leisurely walk due to pain or discomfort, I have traipsed through a pasture hand-grazing Harriet for upwards of an hour for her benefit when she was unable to be turned out. On days that my anxiety or OCD is on high alert, I am able to stay calm and cool, singing to Harriet while riding to ease her frantic, anxious mind. Even on days when I lose sleep from the arthritic pain in my hands and arms, I can still manage to muster enough elbow grease while grooming to bring a clean shine to her coat. After struggling through brutal physical therapy sessions, I still find myself crouched over Harriet's outstretched legs while I ensure that she is adequately stretched after riding to help the permanently-tight muscles in her hind end.

Of course, there must be a balance; only recently have I begun to recognize that the needs of my Health Self provide a foundation on which my Horse Self relies. If I spend an hour riding in the mid-day heat without adequate sun protection, I will end up spending the next two days recovering, rather than riding. This, of course, carries over to my personal life as well; if I spend a weekend camping and hiking, I will likely need to give myself a day or two afterward to allow my body to recuperate before being able to get back to the barn to exercise Harriet.

What a struggle this all brings. During my break from riding while in school, my motivation for self-care took a bit of a crash. Now that I am working on getting back into athletic shape for the good of my horse and my future riding, I have been able to prioritize taking the time for physical therapy exercises, stretching, and chiropractor work. Self care now has another purpose beyond the seemingly superficial; as someone whose mental state demands efficiency in all aspects of life, this is enough to keep me going. I take care of myself so I can take care of my horse.