Just watching the beginning of Eat, Pray, Love where Julia Roberts is crying and praying to God, because she is unhappy in her marriage, and thinking - yeah, I remember doing that.
I remember doing that, only it was different. I wasn't in a beautiful house, with a beautiful husband, and unhappy because I just wasn't sure if this was all that I wanted. I was in a house that I owned, that I was having problems paying mortgage because my husband left me, I was working three part time jobs, and, as I remember, I was sitting in my family room, in my broken blue chair, no one else but me and the dog, crying because the mortgage company told me that no, I could not make my payment late, that if I did that they would foreclose on my house immediately. I wanted to talk to the reasonable person from the bank, but, instead, I got Javert.
I was sitting next to the wood stove, the only source of heat in the house, because the oil ran out and I couldn't afford any other form of heat except for the firewood that I would fill up my trunk with, carry through the snow-filled driveway to my house and dutifully light every night when I got home from work.
And now I am here, and I am paying the bills, taking care of everything. Praying. Praying every day. And it gets a little better, but there are still those chunks of unhappiness that I am still working through.
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