Original Source: stardem.com
I don’t know when my father’s addiction began, but it came into my life when I was about 7. I’m sure it started earlier than that but I didn’t really know. He was never there; he was always working.
One day when I was 7, my mom dropped me off at the YMCA for summer camp. We were going on a field trip to the water park, and I was excited to go. Before we left with our counselors, my dad came to the YMCA and tried to get me to leave. I didn’t want to go because I wanted to go to the water park. Staff members told my dad he couldn’t take me. Even though I didn’t want to go with him, I was confused why they wouldn’t let my father leave with me…click here to continue reading