I will never forget what was said to me at my first treatment program. I was 19 years old. I knew that I had to make a change, but I did not consider myself an “addict”. I was not like “those” people. Don’t get me wrong, I was not a judgmental person per say. I cannot explain it, but I just didn’t have the awareness yet. I could not see the whole picture. I didn’t feel that my addiction was bad. I didn’t actually consider myself addicted. I just thought that I needed a place to go and I would be fine. Right before entering that first inpatient treatment facility, my life had fallen apart in a matter of weeks. I hit my first bottom, even though I didn’t realize it at the time. I thought that if my circumstances improved, so would I. I have never been so wrong.

I will never forget being told that only 1 out of every 3 of us there would “make it”. I remember thinking, wow, that’s super discouraging. The group facilitator told us to look to the left, then look to the right…”Only one  out of the three of you will make it.” That was almost 20 years ago. My father and brother both passed from addiction. I am the one out of the three of us that “made it”. So I will never forget that.

A little bit about my past and how I get here…Addiction runs really deep in my family and so do mental health struggles. My mother was an alcoholic and found recovery when I was about 3 years old, after she got the courage to leave my father. My father was an addict and never got clean. He died in 2013, from end stage liver disease. My older brother Chris was also an addict. We used together, along with our father.

My father was abusive and neglectful. He left us for days at a time, as young children. Sometimes leaving us with other addicts, dealers or sometimes just alone. Chris and I learned to rely on each other and keep each other safe. Because of this, we were always very close. DCF was in and out of our lives. I experienced multiple forms of abuse, none of which I was willing to talk about until my last treatment. By the time I was only 12, I became promiscuous, seeking love from anywhere I could find it. My mother did the best she could to protect us. Our entire childhood was a custody battle, until I was old enough to speak in court. I was in and out of doctors, psychiatrists and therapists. It was always due to “childhood stress”. I was 14 years old when I attempted suicide for the first time. What I didn’t understand back then was that my traumatic childhood unfortunately led to complex PTSD. I just had no awareness of this back then. ! began to hate my father and carried around so much anger. That anger kept me stuck for years. I was 16 years old when I was hit head on in a fatal car accident. I was lucky to be alive, but was left with chronic pain in my neck which caused debilitating migraines. I was given pain meds.That accident changed the course of my whole life. From 16 to 26 I went from oxycontin addiction to IV heroin and crack cocaine. I went through treatment centers like a revolving door. I went in and out of more abusive relationships, having my first child at 19 years old. 

And then it happened. I got desperate enough to listen completely to everything I was told. I had hit the point where every fiber of my being wanted to stop getting high and I still couldn’t. I felt empty. This was in 2014. Up until then, I had some Recovery but could never stay clean past a year. I went into an inpatient program, 1.5 hours away from “home”. Although, I didn’t have a home at that point. Talk therapy was a mandatory part of the program. I went, I talked, and I hated it. It was the most draining thing I have ever done. But once I acknowledged the CPTSD, it became very real. There was no going back after that. 

I chose to continue to heal, one day at a time. I was not willing to go back to active addiction, no matter how hard it became. I had to claw my way back out of a deep depression. I had to learn that I was not alone and people actually cared about me regardless of my past. I became very active in a 12-step program and went to therapy regularly. I addressed my trauma. I have never worked so hard in my life. Eventually I began to sponsor other women and returned back to working in the field of addiction. I had previously worked in the field but never gave myself a chance to truly thrive.

In 2018, about 4 years into my Recovery, Chris overdosed and passed away. It was life altering, losing my best friend and brother. I didn’t know how to move on, but I knew that I could not use. My passion for working with addicts came from him. I threw myself into my work and helping others. It may sound dramatic, but it saved my life. If it weren’t for my support network and my career of working with others, I would not have made it through. I know that this is what I am meant to be doing. I am extremely blessed. I continue to go to school, raise kids, and do my best to be a productive member of society, guiding others on their Recovery journey.