I normally keep these prompted Writer's block entries confined to LJ, but this one needs to be expressed.

The question was "How are you a better person today than you were ten years ago?" My answer follows:

Wow, is that a loaded question for me. Ten years ago I barely existed, and what was there could hardly be described as Chasha.

First off, when I looked at an old journal, I realized that tomorrow will be ten years to the day since Kirby (my cat) passed away.

I wasn't completely gone until around nine years ago, but the wheels were in place. I was fading away, but was too occupied with Stuff to notice it.

Ten years ago, I was married to Pete. Mom had passed away about a year and a half earlier. I was in my final semester of my masters degree program. I had just gained the lion's share of my weight.

I was stressed about my exit exams, which lowered my stress about what came next.

My daily schedule revolved around keeping my much-too-loved to acknowledge how sickly he had become diaper wearing dog alive. I would finally put him down three months later.

Ten years ago I was still not free of Sandy. Being two months away from graduation, I was also two months away from the breaking point with her. Not that final fight that caused me to kick her to the curb, but the point where I realized it was inevitable.

Basically, my life in California sucked. I loved the program I was in. Pete was good to me. But I never really made friends there, which if you know anything about me you know that my friends are the driving force in my life. I had Sandy of course, but that was even more stressful than being by myself.

That being said, I think it got worse after I ended that friendship.

Ten years ago I watched a lot of TV. Hours and hours on end.

Ten years ago I was averaging about two books a week.

Ten years ago I was compulsively buying things.

Ten years ago, I had already lost myself to the point of becoming so introverted (not at all my nature) that I couldn't carry on a normal conversation with people.

Ten years ago I was angry and would lash out randomly at whomever crossed my path.

I don't know when this happened. I don't even think I can pin it to a day, a week, a month. A year. I can, however, pinpoint the moment I came back.

I went to sleep some time around 1997, and woke up on New Years 2002, sitting in the upstairs hallway of my house in Novato with Ken and Rob beside me.