My story is kind of long and complicated, but the best place to start is in Iowa City, around 2011/2012. I transferred there from Iowa State University, because of the famous Writer’s Workshop, and I had made the recent decision to pursue my passion as a writer. But that year at the University of Iowa …
You’re never quite right again after feeling the life exit a person’s body, especially when it’s your younger sister. That’s when the road to disfunction and addiction began in my life. Being a young girl of only nine years old, the loss of my sister Debba Jean was crippling for me emotionally, mentally, even physically, …
If you, or someone you know, is in an abusive relationship call 1-800-799-SAFE (7233). Calls are confidential. I want to start by saying that not all addicts are abusers. And not all abusers are addicts. But in my case, he was. Both. Well, perhaps an “addict in denial,” but most definitely an abuser. Of course, …
My first calls for help weren’t loud enough – given the deserted condo grounds three stories below. No tracks in the snow. Not even a bird or squirrel in the oak trees outside the screen. The sun was low, showing streaks on the sliding glass door that had closed with a solid, unmistakable click. I …
I grew up as a girl with so much potential. I was musically inclined and became a bit of a prodigy. What I may have lacked in academic achievement I made up for with people skills and likability. But by the time I hit puberty it became evident that something was wrong with me. I …
In my first year of sobriety, I made a self-imposed purity pact. I planned to stay out of all relationships until I made it to my first sober birthday. No sex, no drugs, no drink. My best friend Stephanie also took this oath. Together we drank the virgin Kool-Aid that our recovery community suggested was …
I take the subway from Central Park West down to Brooklyn. I’m headed to a party that some old friends from college are having. These are my chique, New York friends who unintentionally make me feel like a country bumpkin. My winter coat didn’t look so boxy, and my boots didn’t seem that scuffed, until …
Elise abruptly stopped using her brown crayon to color the space between the lines of a puppy. She brushed her wispy blond bangs from her eyes and, with a dead-serious expression, blurted out, “I have to go potty.” My wife, our twin 5-year-old daughters and I walked to the steel door. The counselor unlocked it. …
It can hit any time. Walking into a store, working at my desk, cooking dinner, I hear the bass crash into the piano keys, Eddie Van Halen’s guitar kick in–suddenly I’m fourteen, a suburban kid running with the devil, passing joints at my first rock concert. Loosely rolled doobies drip ashes that dot holes in …
Frost lined the edges of the porch windows one morning in February, 1996. My daughter had left for school. As I put milk back in the refrigerator, I noticed ice had built up on the coils again. The refrigerator was an older model and needed to be defrosted the old-fashioned way. I’d just done that …
