And the quality of the conversations with my father goes deeper than it has before. Although I had been to 12-step meetings with him, now that he’s older, he talks about what living the life felt like. He says his real addiction is to the fast-paced energy of it all. How else was a man like him ever going to have some money in his pocket, decent clothes, be viewed as someone who mattered? He was invisible before immersing himself in the life, he said. But drugs not only made him feel seen and relevant, the lifestyle itself gave him that sense. My father, a poor Southern boy, was made fun of
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