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 – …
He was coming home from rehab, just in time for the holidays. His mother was anxious. How would he “fit in” with the rest of the family? Could she trust him – even for a few days – to stay sober for the celebrations? She kept calling him her adolescent. The “boy” was 28, but …
Recently, a family friend – not a man I see often, but someone I’ve known and respected for his intelligence and wisdom – posted THIS on my blog: Your story makes me feel so blessed that I have never been cursed with a child’s addiction. After my initial shock, I carried his words around for …