My Story: The ‘White Child’ That Killed My Father
“The hardest pill to swallow as a son of an addict is to view your father as a King, but watch him live as a peasant.” Those are the words of author Torri Stuckey, who grew up in the shadows of a father who suffered from substance abuse. His words paint a real picture of what it’s really like wanting love from a person who has been stolen away by drugs.
Read his powerful words below.
My mind is rejecting the reality, refusing to let go. My body is completely paralyzed by the finality of it all. “He’s gone.” said a broken whisper uttered by my sister. The man who helped give us life had finally lost his battle with [crack] cocaine addiction. The same addictive spirit that deprived us of a parent has robbed him of his life, 57 years young. Even after thirty years of drug abuse, a small part of me held on to the belief that he would one day claim victory and defeat his addiction. That dream died along with him today. Moreover his death, this reality has been the hardest to accept. As he goes, so goes a lifelong unfulfilled prayer. There are no more chapters to be written. No new storylines in the narrative. His autobiography has been cemented with him having never overcome his addiction.