Tonight I’m feeling so grateful for all the beyond-my-comprehension things that have happened since my divorce. Don’t get me wrong – divorce was hell, and I’m sad that it came to that. But still, the result is that I have the space and the quiet to begin to live my own life.

And the Universe has been so very good to me.

When I lived in the daily drama and insanity of an alcoholic family, I could never trust myself to give more than the bare minimum required to survive, since I lived in survival mode most of the time. I never knew if a day would be happy or miserable. I couldn’t trust myself to make commitments to people because I might wake up on the day unable to get out of bed, and I didn’t want to disappoint them or have to back out of plans at the last minute. So I procrastinated in my RSVP’s and spent a lot of time wondering what was wrong with me that I couldn’t commit to a fucking shopping trip with my sister-in-law.

I felt guilty all the time. I felt like I was missing out.

And yet, avoiding promises seemed better than the inevitable moment when I had to face an important event with eyes so swollen from crying that wearing contacts was impossible, and with a give-away red nose that could have guided a sleigh through the thickest fog.

And so, I participated fully in the insanity.

Today, I still have bad days sometimes. But they don’t render me completely useless, usually. I don’t think I’ve ever called in sick to work in my two years with this company because of emotional distress. In fact, I don’t think I’ve called in sick for any reason.

While I would never claim to be cured – I don’t think it’s really possible – I’ve become dependable at work. Wow. What a concept.

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