When I transformed my random and raw words into sentences, sentences into paragraphs, and paragraphs into chapters, a semblance of order and sanity appeared where there had been only chaos and insanity.

This stigma associated with drug use--the belief that bad kids use, good kids don't, and those with full-blown addiction are weak, dissolute, and pathetic--has contributed to the escalation of use and has hampered treatment more than any single other factor.

Anyone who has lived through it, or those who are now living through it, knows that caring about an addict is as complex and fraught and debilitating as addiction itself.

Along with the joy of parenthood, with every child comes a piercing vulnerability. It is at once sublime and terrifying

We deny the severity of our loved one's problem not because we are naive, but because we can't know.

A world of contradictions, wherein everything is gray and almost nothing is black and white.

How can both Nics, the loving and considerate and generous one, and the self-obsessed and self-destructive one, be the same person?