A Story Too Heavy For the Dark
When Home Isn’t Safe: How Drug Abuse Tears Families Apart By Vyona Adhiambo Onyango , I’ve carried this story for so long that sometimes it feels like it’s carved into my bones. A story about a father who was both a shelter and a storm. A man who could fill a room with laughter one moment and empty it of hope the next. A man whose love was real, but whose demons were louder. People imagine that broken homes announce themselves loudly with shouting, slammed doors, shattered glass. But the truth is quieter. Homes don’t always break with noise. Sometimes they break in the silence between footsteps. In the way a child holds their breath. In the way a mother’s eyes dim even when she’s smiling. I grew up with this story long before I understood it. Long before I knew what addiction was. Long before I knew that love could be both a blessing and a wound. Children Who Grow Up in Unstable Homes There’s a kind of childhood that doesn’t look like childhood at all. You learn to read danger ...