Confessions of an Addict

Today I'm posting a re-run. Some of you may have been with me last May when I originally wrote it. I read through Vikki's blog this week and it reminded me of this. Vikki, this one is for you! :) This will redirect you to a previous post.

The first time I suspected anything was wrong was the day I came home from school to find my dad sleeping in the oversized orange beanbag in the living room. My mother had covered him with a blanket my sister and I reserved for watching Saturday morning cartoons. I remember watching him sleep and staring at the blackest eye I had ever witnessed on a grown up. Within weeks I found out you didn’t have to be a grown up to have grown up problems. I was introduced to the life of a drug addict at the age of seven. [read more...]