When I started my journey into addiction, I did so at a very young age, it was one of curiosity. Both my parents were alcoholics and so were both my grandparents. I would enter into addiction thinking everyone lived this way, to later find out that was far from the truth. My parents inability to manage life, left me lacking that inability too. It also became apparent later, when I was to have children of my own. I would discover an inability to show affection, as a child I viewed many forms of emotion, affection was not one of them. Drama and disfunction became our way of life. Unaware of the aftermath of addiction, I was to become a free agent in a world I knew nothing about. Leaving home at 16 and having experienced the effects addiction has on a family, I was to enter a life filled with abuse and turmoil, bound to repeat a pattern I knew, all to well. Realizing, I had no safety net to fall back on. I would slowly retreat into a life of familiarity. Addiction was my life experience and it had taken me to many places, treatment centres and mental institutions, causing my first suicide attempt at the ripe old age of 21, I had entered into a dark place, one of desperation and emptiness. To find recovery, or did recovery find me. I had discovered the meaning of life, buried within the pain of grief and loss. It was there, where life is celebrated. In each moment, no more important than the next, that you see the beauty, when life draws its final breath. The importance one life has on another, was to send me on a journey to self discovery, one I’d like to call, from me, with love.