A short poem about not belonging and wondering if I was adopted as a child. It's also about my new adopted recovery family. ADOPTED Twelve or thirteen years old: Nobody hears me. I don’t belong in my family. I wonder if I was adopted. I don’t fit...
In order to regain a best connection with my inner young adult, I decided to listen to all my old cassette tapes (more than 150!). Thanks to osteopathic care, I suffer less from hyper-acousia, and have become able to listen to music again, but no more than one or two...
The Literature in Development Subcommittee has taken on the project of proposing one set of ACA Affirmations for our fellowship to evaluate. As you may know, an earlier committee drafted a set of 23 rights for an ACA conference-approved Bill of Rights. There are 23...
Meet me when I wake up before my prayers so that I can have a smoke...Meet me at the coffee pot so that I can feel the coffee and tons of sugar glide down my throat...Meet me after breakfast while I put on my house and coat...Meet me at lunchtime instead of eating I...
En grandissant, les seules façons d’obtenir un fragile droit à l’existence étaient: 1) voyager à l’étranger, de préférence dans des lieux perdus ou extraordinaires ; 2) obtenir des diplômes médicaux, ou au moins scientifiques (sciences humaines et littérature étaient...
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