I grew up with an alcoholic mother who often left me sitting in bars with a roll of quarters while she drank. I figured out early on that pleading with her to go never made any difference.
At home, I cried myself to sleep, telling myself I’d never be like her. I dreamed my father whom I’d never met would rescue me.
At fourteen, with my mom headed to prison, she took me from Texas to Oregon to meet him. I hoped for connection, but he was a stranger. The next day, she was arrested, and I remained with him for more than a year.
We never bonded. By fifteen, I left, angry and broken.
I partied, got pregnant at sixteen, and dropped out of school. I married young, had another child, and drank heavily. My marriage fell apart when my son was six months old. I joined the Army, where drinking and pills became my life. The structure could have helped me, but addiction won.
When I left the Army, I was worse off. My relationships were toxic. One man introduced me to harder drugs and abused my son. While I was in jail on a warrant, my son was put in a coma. Losing him sent me spiraling. I lived homeless, used meth, stripped, and prostituted to survive. At that point, whether I lived or died didn’t matter to me.
A stint in rehab brought a moment where I cried out to God, and I felt Him tell me He’d never left me. But I wasn’t ready. I returned to drugs until I met a man who was sober and encouraged me to quit. Our relationship was unhealthy, but I stayed sober for him. When I got pregnant, things worsened, and we fought for custody. By God’s grace, I kept my daughter.
Later, my older two children came back to me after their father’s addiction took over. I now have over five years of sobriety. Recovery has been about rebuilding not just quitting substances but creating a new life. I’ve learned to take responsibility, face PTSD and depression without numbing myself, and stop letting the past control me.
That hole inside me is filled not by a man, not by drugs, but by God and recovery. I started sobriety for others. Now I keep it for me.
