As I left for work this morning, I took one more glance at my youngest. He was sadly staring at me, watching me leave him—again.
The suggestion that addicts know they will become addicted, is both insulting and naive. Addiction isn’t a choice.
Dear 19-year-old me, I know that you are in an impossible situation. But I want you to know that it’s going to work out.
Mom, you didn’t raise an alcoholic. You helped me pick up all my broken pieces and build me into the woman I am today.
I jumped from job to job and relationship to relationship. I loved being a party girl, going out every night and getting wasted. I thought it made my life fun. Sure, there was shame and regret in the morning, but I could wash that away with a few drinks. When I was around 21, I met the man that is now my husband. We were, “the party couple,” until my birth control failed and I found myself pregnant. Our parents convinced us getting marriage was the right thing to do, so we did.