Dear Readers: This is the first time I've ever sat down and written the whole entire story of the tragedies of my life & the life of my beautiful daughter. I am a middle aged woman who lives a middle class America life. My life was laced with tragedy, yet filled with hope and faith, despite the fact that I was a very young widow at the age of 22, left with a baby to raise alone, and that beautiful baby girl, raised in a nice home, grew up to be a junkie and a prostitute. I have not yet in my life, met one person who has not been affected by the devastation that alcohol and drug abuse causes, not only for the addict, but for the entire sphere of the addict's influence. I can't begin to tell you the number of people who know my story and have said to me, "You should write a book!" It's true, my life story with my family of origin truly reads like a fictional tragic soap opera. Nothing written in this book is in any way exacerbated, made up, or embellished. If I hadn't lived it, I wouldn't believe it myself. I want you to know that you can survive -- and yes, even have serenity -- even though your child/spouse/friend/relative/acquaintance/whoever was or is a drug addict or alcoholic. I am living proof of that. You can read this entire book in just a few hours, maybe less. It's a very compelling story because it is so personal. It is my life story -- a true story. If you love an addict or even just know one, I guarantee you, you will see yourself in this book. Everything you are feeling, I have felt. I pray you will come away with some hope and strength and good information by reading my story. The names you read here are not the real names, including mine. I have no desire to place my family in such a tragic spotlight, nor air our dirty laundry in public. But this story of my life with my beautiful daughter and her lifelong addiction and alcoholism, as well as my own struggles being a young widow and single mother, and later, a huge codependent, must be told. It is my hope and prayer that whoever reads this book will not only learn from my mistakes, but also find peace and serenity within themselves, no matter what the addict/alcoholic is doing or not doing -- and, especially, realize that someone else's addiction is in no way their fault, no matter what kind of parent, son, daughter, other relative, partner, boss, co-worker, acquaintance, friend, or lover they were or are. As bad as it would be, even if you put the drugs or alcohol into their mouths or veins and forced them to partake, you are not at fault for their addiction or alcoholism! Addicts and alcoholics are capable of recognizing when their life has become unmanageable and the pain unbearable. Recovery is always their option, but not always their choice. And over that, you have no control. It was a hard lesson for me to learn. Our recovery or not is also OUR choice. As someone once said, "Pain is inevitable; misery is optional." May God bless you as you read this book, and may He open your eyes as He did mine. May you find serenity no matter what. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The ringing of the phone jars me, as it always does these days, and I jump. PLEASE GOD, NOTHING ABOUT LAURIE. PLEASE. "Donna, you need to go over to that apartment where Laurie is living," exclaims my daughter's addict friend's mother, "Lynn," her voice strained. Her teenage daughter and son have been sharing an apartment with Laurie. It is one big party of drugs and sex 24/7 over there. I know this, despite Laurie's lies when confronted about it. This is not the first conversation similar to this that I had with Lynn, and it wasn't to be the last either. Whenever she called me or I called her, we knew it was not going to be a pleasant conversation. "Oh no, WHAT NOW?" My heart is pounding, I'm starting to sweat, and my mind is going in a hundred different directions. I am getting that familiar sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. "Well, evidently, they all had a huge fight, and they have trashed the apartment. Even the windows are broken. My kids left, but Laurie is still there, and she is not in good shape according to them." "Okay, I'm on my way. Thanks for calling." I drive like a mad woman. I must admit I am so glad it is a weekend so I don't have to take off work -- AGAIN. I get to the apartment, and the front door is wide open. I am afraid to enter. I notice all the broken windows. I slowly walk inside and call Laurie's name. I see no one. I call her name over and over as I carefully and slowly walk through the apartment, trying to avoid the broken glass and the filth. I notice there is food smeared and splashed onto the walls, garbage strewn about, and the place reeks. The refrigerator door is half off, and there is no food in it. Empty baby food jars are laying about. The place has all the makings of a crack house, and that is exactly what it is. Sadly, it is a scene I am familiar with because of my daughter Laurie's addiction and alcoholism. I go in the open doors of two of the bedrooms. Nothing but broken glass and filth. Then I see another bedroom, and the door is closed. I feel like I'm going to have a heart attack, my heart is pounding so hard out of my chest, and it's up in my throat. I feel like I am going to vomit and pass out. I just know Laurie is in this room. I knock on the door, and I scream her name again, "LAURIE!" No response. I am afraid to open the door. But I have to. I don't want to see this. But I have to. I can't face this. But I have to. I feel again the monster of all fears -- that she is dead. I slowly open the door and call Laurie's name again. She is there. She is laying face down not moving, on a bed of shattered glass. I think to myself, "she is dead" and I feel like I will die myself. I start yelling her name and shaking her. She finally rouses. She is dirty and smells of urine and body odor. Her clothes are wrinkled and torn. She is a skeleton with sunken eyes. How could she have lost so much weight so fast? She is very dopey and dazed. The realization hits me, and I feel sick: This time she was moments from death from an overdose. Thank God for drop-off rehabs. I tell her I want to take her to the rehab, would she please go? She resists at first, but somehow I help her into the car and begin driving her to the rehab, thinking all the time that she will jump out of the car at the stop lights. She is in a foul mood, and the little talking she does is filled with profanity and lashing out at me, a scenario I have been through with her so many times before, and always the result of her coming down from the drugs. My beautiful, sweet, generous, fun-loving, funny Laurie has turned into someone none of us recognize anymore, not only physically, but emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. We get to the intake section of the facility, and an overweight woman starts to talk to Laurie about admitting herself. She pisses Laurie off immediately with her questions, so Laurie tells the "fat bitch" that she should think about Weight Watchers and storms out the door, without even a glance my way. I start crying, and frantically ask the lady what I should do, should I run and get her? She shakes her head and says, "LET HER GO."

My book has now been published on Amazon.com Kindle & other digital text platforms, such as Nook. The cost is $9.99. This is the link to purchase it from Amazon Kindle. If you do not have a digital text platform, you can also purchase it through Paypal.com (LAFF International Personals) for $9.99 and read it online. Here is the link. If you are not immediately redirected to the link, please email me and I will send it to you asap.

Thank you for your interest in reading my story and I pray you will be blessed
and come away with hope and strength so that you can live happy, joyous, and free.