So there I was, 35 years old with 2 kids. And going through my second divorce. I’ll pause while you gasp and maybe judge a little. Don’t worry, the former version of myself would have judged the crap out of someone like me. But, I’ve become a firm believer in living with no regrets, and though I wish I could have shielded my daughters from the pain of witnessing a second divorce, I do not regret the journey that led me down a path of healing that even a year ago, I could not have dreamed of going down. Let's face it, if two divorces by 35 doesn't teach you to let go of what other people think of you, I don't know what will.
Maybe someday I'll write about the two chaotic marriages I was a part of, but for now, this story isn't about my poorly chosen partners. It's about me. And how I dug myself out of a pit of catastrophic shame, fear, and embarrassment. It's strange how I look back on time now. There are two eras. Before the list and after. I know it sounds dramatic. If dramatic isn't your thing, you should probably choose something else to read. I could maybe, possibly, sort of be considered to possess a flair for the dramatic. I think it's because I never had the guts to actually go out for theater in high school. I've got to make up for lost time.
Anyway, back to the list. You can ask me where the idea came from but I honestly can't remember. I just remembered waking up one day and realizing how fear had dictated so much of my life. You see, I have this wonderful trifecta of anxiety, depression, and OCD. If you want to plan a vacation that includes a thoroughly crafted packing list that is not used until the last second, while being depressed over leaving behind the dogs, all with the stress of if the airplane is safe (I mean, come on... airplanes with doors that stay closed in flight isn't a given anymore, so really, who can blame me??), I am your girl.
So the trifecta that gifted me fear, also gifted me a never-ending list of things going on in my head pretty much 24/7. I love lists. Do I ever complete them? Maybe like 37% of the time. But I make them. And they are color-coded and wonderful. So, back to the story. Side note, I am all over the place. My therapist deserves a medal for how she somehow gracefully manages to follow all of my many tangents. And there are a lot. My tangents have tangents. But somehow, out of all the lists I've ever made, which are likely thousands at this point, I finally finished one. And let me just say, it was epic. At least to me. And it changed my life. So here I am sharing it. Hoping maybe even just one person can learn from my mistakes, or as I've learned to view them, my lessons. Because that's what they really are- lessons that we either learn from or not. Growth is not a given. You have to consciously choose to take whatever mess you're in and make something out of it. We get one life. And this is how a list changed mine.
Enthusiastically yours,
Marina
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