Let’s Get a Divorce!

So I made one year, and they weren’t lying! Everything was better, just like they said it would be in meeting after meeting. Some of the fear dropped away, the paranoia—I could actually see a cop without having my bowels contract—and I figured if I made another year, I’d try getting involved with the human race again, maybe try answering the phone, going out into the yard. That sort of thing. (I mean, I was sick!)