When addiction first crept into our household 11 years ago, I started keeping a journal. Retreating to clean white paper became my refuge. The blank pages stared back, non-judgmental and welcoming. On their unvarnished surface I poured out my anguish, fear, confusion and shame. It was the only place – until many years later – …
I never doubted I was a good parent. Even during Jacob’s darkest days, I never thought I was in any way a “bad” mother. Mostly. When therapists told me addiction happens in the best of families, to children of the best parents, I tried hard to believe them. But that didn’t stop the ruminating. What …
If there were an elixir, proven to heal thousands of people every year, guaranteed to at least make you feel better if you gave it a try – would you try it? More than a decade ago I didn’t believe it either. When my son was nearing his worst days under the grip of …