My little sister is an addict. A full-blown, non-stop, can’t see the rock bottoms she’s hitting, heroin addict.
I have writing to help me get my thoughts and emotions out. I have people around me who will love and support me through it. And I have yoga.
My parents have been gone over twenty years, my youngest sister only six. I list all of them as victims of drugs and alcohol. I continue to grieve their loss.
Early in recovery, I spent a lot of time removing my masks; the masks I wore were to cover my pain and my lies and my hurt. This was necessary because I spent so long wearing masks to… Read More