March 2011

Wreckage of the Past

Beautiful things happen when a newcomer gets honest on her one-year anniversary

I was 12 years old when my parents separated. I lived with my mom for a couple of years but asked to move in with my dad when I was about 14. By this time I was already drinking every chance I could. I hid it and pretended to be "good" around my dad, but when I went out with my friends I really let loose. I couldn’t control it. All I thought about was drinking. How, when, and how much booze could I get were thoughts that consumed me.

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