Ever since Ammon filed for divorce I have been low. Very very low. I am so overwhelmed by all of the stress and emotional trauma of the last few weeks. I have no idea how to deal with all of this, how to make the right decisions for myself and my daughters, how to just make it through each day. I feel lost. I feel powerless. So I’ve started going to AA meetings again.

It has been about five years since my last AA meeting, six or seven years since I’ve gone to meetings regularly. I basically used church to replace the need for support, and that worked well for awhile. The meetings I went to before were all full of young people, most very new in the program. It seemed like a pick-up scene, people showing up just to be seen and to meet up with friends or flirt with each other. I wasn’t getting very much out of the meetings that I went to, so it wasn’t hard to stop going. I didn’t feel like I was missing out on much. But when my marriage started to rapidly fall apart I looked up and realized how utterly alone I was. No church, no network of supportive friends, just a few wonderful people smattered here and there who reached out in the ways they could. They have been helpful, absolutely priceless people to have in my life, but I needed something more. I needed to feel safe somewhere. I wanted to feel like there was somewhere I could go where I would belong and be accepted unconditionally. So I looked up the meeting schedule online, found one nearby, and showed up.

It. Was. Amazing.

The meetings I have found in the town where I live now are so different from the meetings I went to before. The people come from everywhere and the rooms are filled with a bizarre mishmash of folks who, under normal circumstances, would never have crossed paths. The focus isn’t on the social scene of AA, but on recovery. On solutions. And the openness and honesty that is spoken in those rooms splits my heart wide open. The moment I walked through the doors of that first meeting, I felt like I belonged there. Like I was wanted there. Good lord, what an amazing feeling, to feel wanted. And not only wanted, but admired- I’m coming back to meetings with a good chunk of sobriety under my belt. This month it was eight years. And these people who I’ve never met before are proud of me for that. The support I have received has been immeasurable, pouring in from all sides from people who tell me, “You’ll be ok. You’ll get through this. I’ve been there.” And I believe them, because I hear their stories of heartbreak and failure and desolation, and of how they made it through to the other side.

I even got a sponsor- a beautiful woman with an unbelievable story of recovery. I’m meeting with her for the first time this morning, and I am so eager for her to lead me through the twelve steps. I’m so incredibly relieved to be around people who understand me, who don’t judge me, and who are a source of endless support and encouragement. And I have to tell you- all you non-alcoholics out there? I feel really sad that you don’t have this in your life. Everyone should have the amazing gift of being able to walk into a room full of strangers any day, any time, anywhere in the world and feel unconditionally accepted. I feel so very lucky.

I am seriously digging this song.

Best line: “Thou shalt not go into the woods with your boyfriend’s best friend, take drugs and cheat on him.”

Time to dance.

Last week I was driving down a four lane highway, cars zipping past on both sides and a beat up old pick-up truck driving way to close to my rear bumber, bullying me to go faster. Suddenly traffic stopped. All four lanes were at a complete standstill. I craned my neck out my window, trying to see what was blocking the road. For the longest time I saw nothing- no accident, no pedestrians, no debris that could explain why we weren’t moving. But then, slowly waddling out between the stopped cars, was a mama duck and her seven brand new babies. None of the cars moved in either direction, not even an inch, until she had led her ducklings across the vast expanse of road to the safety of the sidewalk on the other side.

I’ll never forget witnessing that moment of pure human decency. It seems like every time I decide that life is pointless, that people are evil and all love and goodness has been drained from the world… something beautiful happens that brings me back. It could be anything- a ray of sunlight that bursts through the clouds and touches the earth like the warm finger of God, the gorgeous peals of laughter that erupt from my daughter when a ladybug lands on her sleeve, even just noticing the stark beauty of a cold night in the city. Something happens, something that reminds me why life is precious and that no matter how lonely and frightening this world can be, a breath of something wonderful is powerful enough to make it all worthwhile again.

I tried to take Molly to the only non-kill shelter in the area that takes owner surrenders. She failed their intake test miserably. She’s too much of a butt-head, and they won’t take her. Awesome.

I also just got a rejection letter for an article I submitted to a magazine. Double awesome.

Ammon and I are trying to figure out if he should move out for awhile, in order to give us both some breathing space while we’re working through things. Triple awesome.

Today can suck it.