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 – …
A question I often am asked is, “Where did Jacob go?” The rest of the question is…for treatment? To get well? To stop using? Regardless, the real question is always the same. Does it matter? Ten years into my son’s recovery, I cannot recall the names of the places in Florida where his last treatment …
Impossible to believe today, but there was a time when I pretended he didn’t exist. I had no son. When Jacob was actively using, and I felt so hopeless that no matter what I tried he kept trudging down a dangerous path, I had an inconceivable thought. If I could steel myself against the crushing …