When my father became critically ill in the spring of 2009, I went home to California to be with my family. Dealing with the idea of my dad dying brought back a lot of memories, feelings, and pain. While at home, I found a box of journals my dad saved from the time I was 7 through high school. The "journals" are mostly books of poems. Not everyone has a written record of what they experienced growing up in an alcoholic home - fear, numbness, denial, loss of identity, shame, isolation. They were a gift from my little girl to me. And we want to share them with you, along with big girl thoughts and poems on ACoA recovery. And, thankfully, my dad survived and continues to recover from his illness as I recover from mine.
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I'm trying to keep the balls in the air without dropping them these days.
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