Labyrinth Therapeutic Services

06/14/2026

Jim Rusch snapped a wicked cool picture of the farm yesterday while tearing up the skies with Operation HIGH FLIGHT.

Thank you Jim! Awesome shot of the farm!

06/14/2026

06/14/2026

06/13/2026

Today was our first ever 1/2 day “experienced” rider group for folks who’ve been through our day program. It was a great day. Thank you so much Mountain Lane Farm, Donna Doran, Heather White for all of your support both in and out of the saddle!

This concept was born as a direct result of our friends over at Swim With A Mission giving us a grant to help support our programming and trying to brainstorm how to make the most of the funding we have available.

Thank you so much for supporting our programming, it matters!

06/11/2026

Our friends at The Honor Bear Project are once again bringing attention to a crisis that continues to impact our military and first responder communities.

On Saturday, June 27th, they will install 660 American flags at Renaissance Fi****ms, Training & Development in Barrington, NH—each one representing a veteran lost to su***de every month. Additional flags will honor the active-duty service members, National Guard, Reservists, and first responders we also lose far too often.

This powerful display serves as a reminder that behind every number is a life, a family, and a story.
If you're able, please stop by, show your support, and help spread awareness. Together, we can continue the conversation, reduce stigma, and remind those who are struggling that they are not alone.

🇺🇸 660 flags. 660 lives. 🇺🇸 Saturday, June 27, 2026 🇺🇸 1:00 PM 🇺🇸 Renaissance Fi****ms, Barrington NH.

Thank you to The Honor Bear Project for continuing to honor the fallen while fighting for the living. ❤️🇺🇸

***deAwareness

06/09/2026

This one hurts because it’s also a resounding feeling from the peer space.

An Open Letter From a Therapist To a Client Contemplating Su***de,

If you’re reading this and you’re thinking about ending your life, I want you to hear this from me.

I would care. More than you think I would.

I know there’s a part of you that believes you’re a burden. That maybe even I would understand… or move on… or that it wouldn’t really matter in the long run if you were here or not.

But that’s not true.

I would notice your absence immediately. The empty space where you were supposed to be. The silence where your voice used to fill the room. I would think about our conversations—the ones where you opened up even when it was hard, the moments you almost gave up but didn’t, the pieces of yourself you entrusted me enough to share.

I would carry that.

Not as a case. Not as just another client. But as you.

I would wonder if there was something more I could have said, a moment I could have held onto longer, a way I could have helped you stay. Because you matter to me—not just as someone I work with, but as a human being I’ve come to know and care about.

I’ve seen your strength, even when you couldn’t see it yourself. I’ve seen you survive days that felt impossible. And I know how loud the pain can get—I’ve sat with you in it.

But I also know this: the part of you that keeps showing up, even now, is still there.

I know I can’t fix everything. I know it doesn’t help to overwhelm you with solutions.

But let’s get through this moment together.
Just this one.

You don’t have to decide anything about forever right now.

Please don’t disappear without giving yourself the chance to be held in this a little longer—with me, with someone, with anyone.

Because you are not someone I could ever just forget.
And your life is not something that wouldn’t matter if it were gone.

It matters to me.

And I want you here.

06/09/2026

In this work, you hear the same question dressed up a hundred different ways:

“Why didn’t I leave?”
“Why did I go back?”
“Why didn’t I fight harder?”
“Why do I still feel like it was my fault?”

And underneath all of it is the same belief:
I should have done something differently. I should have been someone different.

I’ve sat across from people who were kids when it happened—kids who learned to stay quiet because speaking up made things worse.
People who froze when they were hurt, and now hate themselves for not fighting back.
People who went back to someone who broke them, not because they’re weak, but because that person also knew exactly when to be kind.
People who were never taught what “normal” or “safe” even looked like.

Trauma doesn’t happen in a clean, obvious moment where you get to pause, assess, and make the “right” decision. It happens in real time, in messy environments, often with power, fear, love, or survival all tangled together.

Your brain’s job in those moments wasn’t to be perfect.
It was to get you through.

So maybe you froze.
Maybe you stayed.
Maybe you minimized it.
Maybe you adapted in ways that made sense then but hurt now.

That’s not failure. That’s survival.

The guilt people carry years later is often built on the assumption that they had more control than they actually did.

You didn’t.

You didn’t have the power you think you had.
You didn’t have the information you have now.
You didn’t have the safety you deserved.

And it wasn’t your fault.

Not then.

But here’s the part that matters now:

You do have power here.
In this moment.
In what you choose next.

Not power to erase what happened—but power to decide how you care for yourself because of it.

Power to tell the truth without minimizing it.
Power to stop carrying blame that was never yours.
Power to set boundaries that once felt impossible.
Power to choose people, spaces, and patterns that don’t recreate the harm.

Healing isn’t about pretending you could have done better back then.
It’s about realizing you can do something different now.

And that shift—from “it was my fault” to “it’s my responsibility to care for myself now”—that’s where your power lives.

06/08/2026

Hey friends, IF you’ve ridden with us before you’re eligible for our peer trail ride this Saturday!!

There’s still a few saddles open, sign up today!

Www.LabyrinthTS.org

05/31/2026

The sunset tonight was absolutely beautiful. Made me think of Zach Bryan’s east side of sorrow song.