My Disease
My Disease Before Al-Anon, I knew little outside of grief. My relationship with the addicted members of my family had transformed from frustration to obsession. Without realizing it, I had built a prison in my mind, where I was convinced that I was trapped and nothing would ever change. My mother, who has been in the program for 30 years, listened to me complain, even as it ate into our time together. Finally, she said, “You sound like an addict.”…