REMEMBERING GUILT, TRYING TO BECOME INDEPENDENT

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THREE GUILTY FEELINGS WHEN TRYING TO BECOME INDEPENDENT

There are several memories that flash through my head when I remember moments that I disappointed my family. I don’t know why I hold onto them so tightly. Are these the things that keep us wound up?

It’s harder to forgive myself than it is to forgive others.

  • My grandmother
  • My father
  • My son

My grandmother was dying. I didn’t know it, but she was. Her last few months of life were spent at my parents’ house. She ...

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HOW I STAYED DETACHED FROM MY FAMILY’S ADDICTION

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HOW I STAYED DETACHED FROM DAD’S ALCOHOLISM

 

What are the adventures we create to enter an alternate world of joy, love, and a healthy family when we are only children?

For me, it was making friends, real and imaginary.

  • Real friends
  • Food
  • Things to do at school
  • Clubs
  • Volunteering
  • My sister

My neighbor was my best friend. I hopped the fence to play at her house any time I could. She was real. Her parents knew about my dad, but never talked about it. They saw him passed out ...

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Hollow Eyes-How Does a Child See an Addicted Parent?

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In a horror movie, no eyes generally means a serial killer is on the loose, or perhaps Jeepers Creepers 3 is being made (remember that one?).

In business, it might mean we’re dealing with a cold, hardened executive who has seen enough conmen and women to last his or her lifetime.

In my family of addiction, hollow eyes meant dad was gone to the liquid amber seduction of alcohol, and mom was numb, entering into her codependent life.

In Fire Heart, novel 2 ...

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POETRY IN A NOVEL

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Are any of you like me when you’re writing — sometimes you just want to burst out in a poem?

I solved that urge and have begun each novel with a little bit of quick poetry. I’ve thought about having a character or two write a little bit inside the story as well, but for now, I’ll hang back.

How do you feel when you read a poem at the start?  Does it turn you off? Do you like it? Or do ...

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MOM BEGINS TO CHECK OUT: A CODEPENDENT IS BORN

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After dressing in jeans and my cheer jersey, I went bounding down the stairs and found my mother at the kitchen table. That morning, her body and round face, surrounded by her dark, curly, dyed hair, seemed to be smaller.

I didn’t realize how my life was changing. Even as I resisted, my boundaries were being redefined. I was making new friends, and the things I was involved in were sophisticated.

The importance of my parents was diminishing.

As I looked at Mom ...

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