Embed from Getty Images On the day the planes hit the World Trade Center in New York, my entire view of the world changed. I had been going through some really rough stuff, trying to raise a small group of hellions who were out of control; desperately searching for work when there was none; and hanging on to a house I hated, one which I had bought irrationally post-divorce. It often felt like I had stepped in quick sand and it was all I could do to cling for dear life onto what was left of the solid ground. Every night, I would sit in the living room and stare at a tree in the middle of the green space behind my house, and imagine building a fort, and just going there to live. I wanted to be in a place where nobody could find me, not the collection agencies, or the ex, not even my beloved children. Instead, I just sat there with a bottle of wine in one hand, and a self-help book in the other. Then the planes hit and the entire world was turned upside down. My kids came r...
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