So you said that cognitive behavioral therapy didn't work? That sucks, its the only thing that made a difference for me. The thing is though, it didn't cure the PTSD. Nothing did really I still have to wrangle it back in the jar from time to time.

But the therapy did give me tools to fight it with, like realizing that the PTSD is not part of my identity, nor is the alcohol I used to drown it out. I can control it with a lot of effort, I can be surprised by its resurgence, but I don't have to take it personally that I have this problem. That helps reduce the extreme anxiety that drove me to drink. Once when a caring person told me that I drank too much, I turned around and told him to fuck off because I was doing it on purpose. Charming, no? That relationship didn't work out but it did drive me into therapy.

Here is how I got on top of the urge to self-immolate in vodka 5 times a week. I don't know if it will even be remotely applicable to your situation but it might help.

1) I realized I was drinking pathologically because I was responding to panic and anxiety which was my REAL problem.

2) I worked to identify what it was that triggered the anxiety. This took some extremely uncomfortable and awkward discussions in therapy, but I've managed to use it to improve my relationships and develop new responses to people that were making me crazy.

3) I lived like a monk avoiding temptation until I started feeling comfortable in my skin again. Take up a hobby, mine was baking.

4) I told everyone I knew about my situation and my efforts to stay out of trouble. This was often embarrassing and sometimes ineffective. There were a lot of people I knew that didn't want to believe I had a problem because they were my drinking buddies and it shook up their world. A lot of people didn't understand, but wasn't my problem.

5) I stopped telling people when I finally became confident of my ability to control myself.

6) I forgave myself my slips and just increased my hyper-vigilance (make it work for you!) for the next temptation.

Inevitably sober became my baseline comfortable state and the anxiety dissipated. I cleaned up my life and made it work for me. I can have a glass of wine with dinner now without fear and there was a time when I thought that would be impossible.

But yeah I still wrangle the panic back into the jar. I probably always will, they say its a lifelong condition.

Good luck!

I'm so sad to see an article on the joys of pork without any mention of German butchers. My family is Bavarian and I grew up in Schaller und Weber on westphalian ham, kassler rippchen, gelbwurst, teawurst, I could go on but I'm drooling already.

Such are the flavors of holidays at home. The punchline is that Schaller und Weber, award winning german butchers, are from New York City.

ps: Pigs are omnivores and would eat us given half a chance. We should treat them with dignity and respect, but lets not forget that we were born to eat everything.

I have unconventional parents myself and the sheer terror of not knowing if we could keep the house or not looms large in my memory. The stability that a house implies is the foundation from which a child launches their attempts at adulthood. If the ground is always shifting beneath your feet its hard to take off. Its shaped my life, my choices, just wait a few years and give the kid a chance to find his footing.

And between white-knuckling it through the cancer strips and hooting for joy through the lil'gravy strips, I've never laughed as loudly as I did just now.

Bravo!

You make it all sound like she chose to get divorced like it was a calculated life-move. What about chance, bad luck, unforseeable circumstances? I'd bet a million dollars that when that divorce became necessary it was a big fat surprise. Nobody gets married and has three kids and then says "gee its time for a divorce of convenience, me and my MFA against the world!" That’s just ridiculous, and as a story it fits neatly with the cognitive distortion called the "just world hypothesis" which is the false belief that bad things happen to bad people who have brought it on themselves in order to maintain a false sense of security. (Key word: FALSE) In other words, quit being a bunch of insensitive jerks and realize that we are all one Herbert Hoover away from moving into central park ourselves. 1% of the population has 90% of the wealth right now, inequality that hasn't been seen since before the great depression. None of us are safe enough to judge the author (unless I have to extend greetings to Mr. Gates.)

Jerks.

Oh and marikalilly or whatever your name is, I tried veganism and got very sick. My doctors told me iron supplements weren't enough to help me and that I had to eat red meat. As the blood ran down my chin and returned to my cheeks and my will to live came flooding back with it I embraced my predator-hood. Don't you dare look down your emaciated sallow nose at me honey or I'll judge you just as harshly right back.

Seriously, turning an article about working poverty into an opportunity for a polemic on veganism? Are you obsessed?

Like most public nuisances (vermin?) he will come back if you feed him. He lives on outrage. There is plenty here to be outraged about that is on-topic without having to veer off on a tangent about how bad misogyny is.

You can't shame him into silence.