"Through Isabella's Eyes" by Beth Abbott, approfondit les mécanismes conscients et inconscients de l'addiction, et l'auteur, survivante de l'alcoolisme, offre au lecteur de partager sa résilience.

De profondes réflexions, écrites sans filtres, destinées aux addicts ou leur famille qui peinent à comprendre, émaillent ce mémoire étincelant.

Croire engourdir ses douleurs dans l'alcool se révèle être pire, car le sucre appelle le sucre, et l'engrenage s'installe insidieusement...jusqu'à ce qu'il soit trop tard pour faire marche arrière.
C'est la leçon de vérité qu'offre ce livre, lisez-le !

Un livre lucide, empathique, des mots qui résonneront longtemps, cet ouvrage rédempteur, salvateur, est destiné à soutenirles victimes de toutes addictions.

Cependant, la lecture est ardue du fait que les idées sont jetées pêle mêle, sans tri préalable, et les émotions débordantes noient, parfois, le processus de guérison attendu. Le flux est désordonné, le rythme ultra rapide, les chapitres inexistants.

Une fantastique lueur d'espoir, et de courage, exultent de ces lignes ! ( )

It's a painful and poignant journal of recovering from addiction. However, there are grammatical errors (the author states this upfront), and the book lacks cohesiveness and a central theme. ( )

Thematically there should be some sort of overarching lesson or something. It’s a hard sell to a reader just to believe in recovery for recovery sakes. The writing feels rudderless. Everything is rather messy — if every random sentence is important, nothing is important. The chapter entitled Anti wrinkle cream is really good at honing in the dialog to a point, a story, a theme.

Overall, I don’t get it. At about page 70 you hear about the daughter for the first time in depth, and then you don’t hear about her again until the end of the book. There is a disconnect between the tone set forth in the Introduction and the rest of the book. Bridgnorth would be a good chapter to start with, maybe move to anti wrinkle cream and end with horrible hormones or little shit hole. Lose the nonsensical poetry / journal entries, and lose the section on MLM drugs. Reformat the poetry if you want to keep it, but either keep it in the shifted tone like taxi driver man boss.

Good luck. There’s good stuff in here, but it’s just so weighted down with stuff that isn’t great writing. The poem called black teeth is terrible, but the personal anecdote after is it fantastic. You don’t have to tell people you are bi-polar — this book is bipolar. Reading Bulimia, was that a poem or was that a chapter? Shallow was a poem, but depression was a chapter? All of this could be solved with turning some chapters into perspective and some into introspective. ( )