“Past, present, future—it’s all the same.” That’s what the psychic said my dead boyfriend said from the other side. Now, as I peruse old journals, I see it’s true. What I struggled with then—all the thens, is what is what I struggle with now, just in different forms.

The chapters of my life repeat: ch.1 I’ve Got to Get it Together, ch.2 How Can I Get it Together?, ch.3 I’m Getting it Together, ch.4 Hallelujah!, followed by ch.5 Storm Ahead or, Shit, I Didn’t See That Coming, then ch.6 I’m Falling Apart, often followed by I Can’t Believe I’m Fucking falling Apart Again! leading full circle to I’ve Got to Get it Together and How Can I Get it Together?

Here, bingo! Ding! Ding! Ding! This is the most important chapter, yet maybe my least favorite. It comes after the crash. It’s picking up the pieces of my heart and personality, my shattered identity after making the Dry Diving Team. It feels like my soul is being crushed, but it’s being called.

How Can I get it Together? comes right after my ego gets bitch slapped and my heart crumbles like coffee cake. The floor of my life’s foundation is a mess. My illusions prove untrue. That’s when my soul steps in like a kind, noble queen. She says, “Well my child, that’s done. Now, who would you like to become?”

It’s my moment of choice. When I was younger, my ego would rise, broken, but determined to be victorious. I didn’t take the queen’s hand, but rose on my own two feet—thank you very much! I struggled and won!

In other versions of the critical chapter, I had no fight and knew it. I didn’t even possess the courage to end it all. I hibernated, sometimes for years. I hid in my own dark cave and didn’t encounter the queen.

The queen is my soul. She’s here. She extends a hand. She offers compassion and wisdom. She waits with me and wipes my tears. The queen comforts me. She smiles with a radiance she says belongs to me. She whispers, “Honey, you’ve already got it together.”

She plays music and movies, awakening me to the drama and intrigue of life. The queen—my soul—she tells me a secret: “This is what you came for.”