As much as I'm supposed to sit here and write about my life, I sometimes find it hard.

What would you think if I told you I stood in front of a revving Ford 350, arms flung wide and screaming for my partner not to leave? That I've chased a man, bare feet on a gravel road, begging him to love me because I thought he was my everything?

What would you think if I said that I've tried to kill myself? That I was so down and sad that I wondered what would happen if I didn't take the turn and hit the telephone pole instead? Or that I've held a knife to my wrist but didn't have the guts?

You see, even here, with the semi-anonymity of the Internet, I don't want to face the judgment. I don't want people to think I'm crazy or that there was insanity going on behind closed doors.

There was. And there is, for many women out there. Divorce can make you feel crazy, like you've lost everything. It can make your mind explode until you wonder if you really are nuts. Sorting out those emotions, making sense of the havoc you live in, is a huge, huge task.

So I'll take the chance that there are a few of you out there reading this that can relate. I'll hope that there are some women who know what I'm talking about, how you feel so crazy you go wild. I hope that no one snorts in contempt at my confessions or rolls their eyes and thinks, "Lady, get a grip."

What I do hope is that someone who reads this hears my message, the one I haven't said out loud: You're not crazy. The situation makes you crazy, but you? You're not crazy.

And I promise — things get better.