I love you too, Daddy.
I grew up 12-stepping. Some of my earliest memories are sitting in some empty room in a hospital or church with my mother and listening to things no little kid should ever have to hear. Of course, no one thought I was actually listening. I had homework or a book or a doll in front of me and I kept my eyes firmly glued to those objects. My mother started pushing me towards Alateen before I was even old enough to attend, and because I was rebellious and scarred from listening to Al-Anon members... Sign in to see full entry.