A kitchen floor, a spilled drink, and a thirteen-year-old son stepping over his passed-out mother to pour a bowl of cereal. This was the baseline for Polly P. and her children. As a military wife, Polly lived in a chaotic blur of barbiturates and tranquilizers, often slipping into a stupor that looked like death. Her sons grew up in a house where the father was absent flying B-52s and the mother was either raging or unconscious. Polly doesn't sugarcoat the wreckage; she identifies herself plainly as a child abuser who left her kids to raise themselves.
Even early sobriety was a minefield of spiritual pride and sexual acting out. Polly describes her first few years as a "torrid sex novel," where she was more in love with the rooms of AA than she was with her own family. It took a blunt sponsor and a Higher Power to force her to face the guilt. Together with her son James, she explores the paradox of the "family afterward," where forgiveness isn't a Hallmark card but a grueling proce...
You've been listening for a while — would you take a second to rate it? It helps others find the good ones.
Thanks — your rating was saved!
Discussion
Be the first to share your thoughts on this tape.