My Father Was a Rockstar — And an Asshole

A story of addiction, abuse, and everything in between

*Missy*
The Memoirist
Published in
7 min readMar 22, 2022

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Photo by Harrison Haines from Pexels

My best friend sat on my unicorn canopy bed and listened as my dad loudly strummed his guitar. The amp made the walls of our tiny home vibrate until my head throbbed. Quiet time was a rare luxury at my house.

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*Missy*
The Memoirist

Working through my trauma one story at a time. Thanks for joining me on my journey.