It's sort of beyond words. They cause a lot of the stress -- the cause of stress. For months, I'd been fighting so damned hard to keep Gypsum going, the Last Battle, throwing everything at it, and I lost the fight. There was nothing I could do anymore, but admit that we'd lost; admit it before the barn staff called me to say that she'd fallen and she couldn't get up. She deserved better than that, so I made the decision, and the vet came, and it was under control, peaceful. I thought I would spiral out of control when I put Gypsum down, but then I suddenly had to switch into DEFCON 4, full-on crisis management, because I realized (and it was confirmed by vet 48 hours layer) that my rising-3 year old was unexpectedly in foal on the same day that Gypsum died. And the foal was due that week (for those who don't know, I'd bought the filly in early March). Yet I didn't spiral. I went on foal watch. Made sure my mare foaled safely. Dealt with all the fallout of an insecure 2-year old foaling. Then my flatmate had a mental health meltdown and needed me to placidly, gently deal with her sh1t as well, and I couldn't do it. I just couldn't. I'd maxed myself out, used up everything I had (and continued feeling sucked dry because my mare became nuts and foal proud -- for weeks). I didn't have a choice about the horses. I did about the friend/flatmate, a 30-year old woman. But she's now moving out. I'm just not empathetic enough, apparently.
However, Hermosa is rejoining Planet Earth and 5000 years of domestication, so that's good. And her foal is cute, like annoying toddlers are cute. Ex-friend/flatmate and I are barely on speaking terms.
Despite all that, I like I how I feel when I'm with the horses. I just focus on them. I'm completely in the moment, like they are. I don't spin out worrying about all the other bullsh1t. It's like a void, this calmness, this focus. It's magic. It's not like dealing with people. It's so Goddamned addictive that I ended up with three(ish) after Gypsum died.