My parents divorced when I was two. Both of them were young and addicted and mentally ill. One of those would be enough to make parenting difficult, but the combination…well. I give my mother credit for trying very hard.
When I was thirteen or so, my father re-entered my life. He brought with him a sickness that was invisible to everyone but me. It was like seeing ghosts or hearing voices. The adults in my life thought he was worldly and wise because he had money and charm. The best predators are the ones who are sleek and ruthless.
It has taken me decades to undo the effects his illness had on my psyche. It’s not over, it will never truly be over. I’ll probably be 80 years old and still have nightmares, but…but, I have been able to move past the fear and distrust and self-loathing to reach a place of intense happiness and freedom.
This book of poetry is a look at my journey of learning to trust love. I’m sharing it in the hopes that someone else out there who needs it can see my footprints out of the dark and into the light.