Six

I was chatting with a coworker about how I’ve landed here – admitting I’m an alcoholic (something that even just typing the words makes me curl into myself) – and how part of it stemmed from the emotional breakdown I had six days ago. This coworker responded,

“No such thing as an emotional breakdown. Only repairs. Repairs are worth more than the original. Upgrades always value at a higher rate.”

I’ll be honest. I teared up. The person who said that to me kind of knows me. And obviously they’re a safe person otherwise I wouldn’t be communicating with them about anything real, but they still don’t know me. Not all of me. And yet here they are – telling me it’s okay, that I’m okay. I’m not broken. I’m better than new. My good qualities have been augmented, my areas of opportunity minimized. I’ve not been irrevocably changed.

This is what people are telling me.

I’m grateful they’re willing to do so.

I’m still waiting to believe them.