by Lillian Gaffney

Sunday Aug. 26, 1990 I walked to the corner... crossed the street and walked to the phone booth. I opened the door and inserted my dime. I called the police. That phone call changed my life forever. As Dr. Phil says, it was a life defining moment. Things would never be the same, again. They were my first steps to freedom. I was fearful beyond belief and sick of being fearful. I was ready for change... so I thought. Little did I know what was about to transpire. Thank God, I didn't know for I probably would have never done it. In a nutshell, I had my husband removed from my home who I had an on and off destructive relationship with for twenty years. I put down a drug, alcohol, and cigarette addiction of twenty-four years. And picked up my first journal and pen.

First journal entry: H -honesty O-open mindedness W-willing Mon. Aug. 27th 1990 Today I did the usual cleaning and stuff. I couldn't wait to go to therapy today after visiting my son. I hurt so much, I never knew recovery could be like this. I thought I recovered, I thought everyone else was sick in my family. My brain goes so fast, faster than on speed. My insides feel like their being ripped out sometimes, other times like they’re gonna burst. I never intentionally meant to hurt my family; it just happened. I always wanted to be a great mom, I still want to be. I always thought I could do anything and everything. I got off track.

That first year was pure hell. My husband moved to Florida where he stayed with little contact. My daughter was acting out to the point of medical help was necessary, eventually institutionalized and residential. This was the hardest thing I ever did and the most painful. This was the beginning of years of coming home and going back. Each time with hope it would be for good. My son had an addiction of his own which played havoc in our lives. I was holding on each day by a thread, a program, some therapy. And that paper and pen was my best friend! My own abandonment issues were tormenting me; they were like monsters eating my guts out, chewing at my bones, and twisting my muscles. I survived and worked hard to maintain what little sanity I had that year. A friend gave me a beautiful journal and told me to fill it with affirmations. Each day I tried to find one positive thing to write about which on most days wasn't easy. Nonetheless, from 7-22-91 to 8-8-92, I did.