I am becoming used to an overwhelming, grinding mixture of anger and worry.

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

If you subscribe to the idea that #‎ addiction is a disease, it is startling to see how many of these children - paranoid, anxious, bruised, tremulous, withered, in some cases psychotic - are seriously ill, slowly dying. We'd never allow such a scene if these kids had any other disease. They would be in a hospital, not on the streets.

Openness is the first step toward recovery... addiction remains a secret because of the overwhelming shame associated with it.

Why does it help to read others' stories? It is not only that misery loves company, because (I learned) misery is too self-absorbed to want much company. Others' experiences did help with my emotional struggle.

Here's a note to the parents of addicted children: Choose your music carefully...There are millions of treacherous moments.

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.