Comparable Misery

I'm reading this lovely book, Split: A Memoir of Divorce, by Suzanne Finnamore. As painful as it is to revisit what I thought was my own personal torment, seeing that someone else has endured and survived, in the author's own words, "It should be noted that my son and I are well and happy . . . , " is also quite helpful.

For my sake, my daughter is well-enough and mostly happy, and I am too, and . . . that is hopeful. It means one can recover from one's own delusions and, despite being torn apart by grief and disbelief, go on to greater self-awareness and growth. Thank God for that. 3 years after everything fell apart for me (the whole house of cards) I'm creating a real home and putting my life back together in a way that is far more reflective of who I am and what I really want. That's promising.