“The evening begins when I am eight and my sister, eleven. We were trying to finish dinner before he’d unraveled. Within minutes, I’m hiding under the dining room table, cowering’ praying that he won’t see my hiding place.”
Hiding places – we all have them when growing up in a family that battles addiction. The rage – physical and mental – comes unexpectedly. We never know when our daily life will change. We are children that hope for the loving parent ...
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