Before I started drinking and using, before my mom’s drinking had become the huge issue it turned out to be, before I fell in love with addict after addict I was emotionally bound to others. It is appropriate as a baby, as a child. We learn to smile by being smiled at, how to laugh
December 5th, 2013 at 3:44pm, the weather man says it’s going to be clear and sunny till next Thursday with temperatures in the sixties after today. I finished packing up the bike, grabbed a sausage and biscuit, cup of jo, kiss and hug and hit the road. Thirty nine degrees and cloudy, and the biggest
Why does it start? Will it ever end? The dysfunction eating away at your soul Till you feel so empty and no longer whole. Why did it choose me, why is this my reality? The pendulum swings, and soon it becomes your normality Functionally ever after Can it be? They say to keep
Photography by MrClean. Concrete poetry is a type of poetry that uses some sort of visual presentation to enhance the effect of the poem on the reader. The visual layout of the poem need not necessarily form a picture, although many concrete poems do.
Well we did it! “I Love Recovery Café” is now a thing. Months of editing, website building, coding, discussing and deciding have gone into the creation of this pretty fabulous project. I am completely thrilled to be able to present I Love Recovery Café, to the global recovery community. My vision for such a publication
Right now, before you start reading, take a moment to breathe, with attention, three or four times. These deep breaths come from a soft abdomen and an expandable chest. In and out through the nose – or in the nose and out the mouth. Not to be too concerned about a “right way”. Just breathe.
So here I am not quite 34 years old, a mother of 2, wife, musician, Reiki Master and Alcoholic/Addict. Labels and more Labels. I have recently been diagnosed with Functional Neurological Disorder (FND) so I now also carry the label “disabled.” I came into the program of AA when I finally realised that I needed
Sitting quietly at home one evening, I got to thinking deeply about how my children have survived the many adverse social situations that having an addicted parent brings. They have lived in chaos and violence, witnessed the divorce of their parents, suffered financial hardship and insecurity – basically far too much for their tender years.