When those in recovery reference the shame that comes with substance use disorder, I get it. Because as a mom, I got that treatment, too.
It was bad when my son suffered depression and anxiety attacks at school. But attitudes towards my family and Charles got much worse once drugs entered the picture.
I expected it from clueless neighbors and uneducated parents.
Surprisingly, the most belittling humiliation came from behavioral health specialists–people I was paying to educate me on what to do. Don’t get me wrong, there are some compassionate, awesome people in the field. But … Read more...