Awakening

| This is the 486th story of Our Life Logs | I grew up in the 1980s in Pakistan. My parents married really young and had a total of 12 kids. Sadly, eight died in infancy, leaving them only four to raise—me and my three younger sisters. We lived in a very small house that could barely fit our family of six, but we managed. Our unity … Continue reading Awakening

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In the Blink of a Bloodshot Eye

| This is the 485th story of Our Life Logs | Addiction isn’t picky. Trust me. You can come from family dinners and a good education and still fall into dependence. I sure as hell did. I was born in 1962 in Coshocton, Ohio. By the time I was about 10, we moved down to Cincinnati where I had a happy life, two loving parents with good … Continue reading In the Blink of a Bloodshot Eye

Life Without Drugs

| This is the 478th story of Our Life Logs | 2013, Virginia Beach. “Dude, they’re coming over the fence right now, bro! You gotta come here, man!” I rolled my eyes. There he goes again—always so paranoid. “Slow Man, I already told you, nobody coming here to rob us, dude. I literally just moved these tools in here yesterday. If you’re gonna be trippin’ like this … Continue reading Life Without Drugs

To Return to Myself

| This is the 461st story of Our Life Logs | As a little girl born in 2001, I didn’t grow up knowing anything but my family’s small farm in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, the two horses we had and the beef cattle. I can still remember how it felt like to wake up to animal noises, to play in the creek, my feet all muddy and wet. I … Continue reading To Return to Myself

When Horizons Fall

| This is the 456th story of Our Life Logs | Editor’s Note This is the story of Maureen Fitzpatrick, an American writer and poet, as captured by the team at Our Life Logs®. While the following has been written to match the tone and voice of Maureen, please note that any discrepancies are creative liberties taken by the writer and agreed upon by the storyteller. Enjoy. … Continue reading When Horizons Fall

There Is Life After Opioids

| This is the 426th story of Our Life Logs | I woke to the sound of a nearby train as it whooshed by. I groaned as I stretched my legs out on the compact, double seat of a CTA train I’d chosen for refuge the night before. It wasn’t comfy, but it beat Chicago’s cold and grimy streets. Pain shot through my limbs as I shifted, … Continue reading There Is Life After Opioids

14 Years Later

| This is the 412th story of Our Life Logs | I was born in 1970 to a poor, but hardworking family in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. My childhood was normal, you could say, except that my parents worked all the time and barely had time for me. Without them, home was lonely. Luckily, I had a best friend named Stephen whom I’d known for most of my childhood. … Continue reading 14 Years Later