“You cannot heal what you refuse to confront.” ~Yasmin Mogahed At sixteen, I walked out of my mother’s house with track marks and a half-packed bag.
No big fight. No slammed door. Just the silent resignation of someone who couldn’t look his mother in the eye anymore. I wasn’t leaving home—I was bailing on it.
On everything. I didn’t know the word “.” Well, I knew it; I just didn’t understand it. I didn’t know that the flu I kept getting was withdrawal.
I thought I was just weak. A loser. A burnout who couldn’t even use the right way. Over the next few years, I would burn through twenty-two treatment centers and detoxes.
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