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She had agreed to meet her therapist at the barn instead of the office. It was hard to rationalize seeking help when she knew others had it much worse than she did. But she was so tired of having to deal with this depression that rolled in every few years—depression that left her feeling desperate as if her soul was a bottomless pit of darkness.
When her therapist suggested equine assisted psychotherapy (EAP), she had liked the sound of it. But as she pulled into the barn parking lot, all those voices in her head were screaming, “What were you thinking?” She had once ridden a pony at a carnival, but that was the extent of her knowledge of horses. “How can a horse help? This is such a waste of time.” But, somewhere deep inside, where tiny sparks of hope and trust lived, she made herself open the car door and walk into the barn.