So, you know my child has grown into an addict. I shall not take you through all of her childhood. I suspect your interest will be in the trauma of a family coping with an alcoholic.

I will tell you she had a full and vital life before inviting alcohol and drugs into her world.

When Bella was two years old, her sister arrived. I spent two weeks in hospital; in those days children were not allowed to visit. I was parted from Bella for that time and came home with a baby. Did she feel rejected, replaced? I do not know. We lived in the times we lived in, and followed the rules of the day.

As a family we travelled for leisure: sunny climates abroad, took in culture from Egypt, and fun from America. We took picnics to the seaside at weekends, we went on walks, bike rides in the country, then dined out in restaurants. Bella enjoyed those times, we all did.

Bella was a deep thinker, she amused us with her enquiries: ‘How long would it take to parachute from the moon?’ ‘Do gums have freckles?’ ‘Do false teeth have fillings?’

She was a funny, but demanding child, which wanted to walk in my shoes, did what I did. She was the type of child who had to be entertained. Her idea of playing with Barbie was to cut its hair off. She preferred going out, socialising. Not playing alone.

It is ironic that as an adult she has forced seclusion on herself.

 

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I am the mother of two adult daughters, both much loved and cared for. The eldest thought she could handle social drinking and party drugs, she could not. There is a journey addicts relate to - their journey. As a mother I have healed through the written word. This is my journey.

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