Rock Bottom

"Simply because failure meant a stripping away of the inessential. I stopped pretending to myself that I was anything other than what I was, and began to direct all my energy into finishing the only work that mattered to me. Had I really succeeded at anything else, I might never have found the determination to succeed in the one arena I believed I truly belonged. I was set free, because my greatest fear had been realised, and I was still alive, and I still had a daughter whom I adored, and I had an old typewriter and a big idea. And so rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life (Rowling, 2008)."

So. Um. My marriage is a failure. I've known this for a while, and have held out hope that somehow, all the work, and prayer, and sheer cussedness would win out, and I would have my happy ending. And a friend posted part of this quotation on my Facebook wall. And it is truth.

My greatest fear has been realized. My husband is happier with another woman.
I am still alive. Haven't eaten anything in three days, and haven't slept in two. But I took care of my kid, went to work, and still managed to look like a functioning adult to the rest of the world.

I still have a child I adore - even when his behavior is that of a jackass on crack.

I have a functioning computer.

I have a degree (in something only slightly more useful than the Classics... not much though.)

I don't have a big idea.  I have a thesis, and classes to teach, and a dance costume to sew, and an apartment to pack up, and a job to find... I think that the big idea can stew for a little while.

I am at rock bottom. And I am still alive.