THERE IS A SOLUTION –
Aug. 17, 2022 – I wear a mask. The labels that represent me — committed Christian, talented author, well-connected publicist — do not tell the whole or even partial story of my life. My pride sometimes blocks authenticity. Though my ego has a vested interest in me looking like I have it all together, I have a pain that shatters me; I am the daughter of a drug addict. Having a dad with a substance abuse issue means that I learned long ago I could not trust my father to tell the truth. A father is supposed to be a daughter’s hero, a person from whom she doesn’t need protection. That’s not my story; I must love with boundaries. Yes, substance abuse is a disease. But that doesn’t mean I don’t get frustrated with its ill-fated effects. I know what it’s like to plan major and minor events understanding that my dad will almost never be present or act normal if he does manage to show up. During my mom’s funeral, my dad rocked back and forth, visibly troubled by not just grief but a life of chemical dependency. Though I was mourning, I felt I should simultaneously care for my dad. I wanted to wrap my arms around him, but needed him to wrap his arms around me.
