- Alcohol
- Drugs
- Faith
I come from a family of seven children with me being the second oldest. There were six of us girls and one brother, my brother being the third born. We were living in Ohio when the first five of us were born, and we moved to California when I was nine. Our dad was from Kentucky and a history of alcoholism. I remember being angry when we moved from Ohio, because I didn’t want to leave my grandma and resented my mom for taking me away from her. My grandma became ill not long after we left and passed away, and that seemed to be when my anger towards mom started, and I never let that go.
I didn’t feel like I fit in anywhere we went. I was always having to start a new school right before my birthday, and I didn’t have any friends to come to my party, because we were always moving. I felt like I was always unhappy, and no matter what I was ungrateful towards my older sister and my other grandparents, because I felt they favored my sister while the grandparent that favored me had died.
Dad drank a lot and mom was a good co-dependent. They fought a lot. When I was eleven, my mom, my two little sisters and myself were in a bad car accident. We were sitting at a red light and were hit by a drunk driver. I was the only one that was badly hurt and was taken to the hospital with internal bleeding, as the accident ruptured my kidney, and it had to be removed.
I remember my first experience with chemicals. I used crosstops, whites, bennies. I liked the way they made me feel, as I didn’t feel so depressed. That was when I was twelve. I experimented with other stuff like marijuana, acid, kenebanal, angel dust, mushrooms, alcohol and methamphetamines.
I married at 17 to get out of the house, because I couldn’t stand the fighting. I ran away and would drink a lot with my friends. When I married I moved to Seaside, CA, where my husband was stationed at Fort Ord in the Army. It was a party every weekend at our house. After a year of being married I found out I was pregnant and was scared that my baby would have problems due to my using and drinking, so I went to the doctor. The doctor said as long as I quit doing anything now my baby should be okay. While I was pregnant, we moved back to Riverside when my husband was discharged from the Army. It was hard staying clean while I was pregnant, but I did, and, when I had my son, my husband was in the parking lot partying at the hospital.
As the year went by we continued to use, and my husband began to sell stuff to make extra money. We had three children, and things started to get ugly between us. He began to get abusive towards me, and I would leave but come back when he made promises to change. I had hopes that we would be able to get clean and get counseling to get back together. I never finished high school and didn’t know what I was going to do to take care of my kids, so I went back until it got bad enough to where I knew it had to change.
I didn’t want to leave, because I vowed until death do us part. We were fighting one day and were going down the road with our youngest daughter in the back seat, before car seats were the law, and he hit the gas. When he did, an oncoming car hit us and threw us into the telephone guide wire and flipped us end over end. I saw the accident getting ready to happen and braced myself and closed my eyes, until I felt the car finally come to a rest. I jumped out screaming for my baby. They found her in the floor board of the back seat with blood all over her. I held her and rocked her in my arms to comfort her, until the rescue team came and strapped us both to the boards to transport us to the hospital.
My husband refused to go and said that he needed to find the bird we had just bought for our daughter. He was under the influence. My daughter was about six months old at the time and had a hairline fracture to her forehead, but she would be okay. I only had a minor cut on my wrist and would be okay too, but I felt death was getting pretty close, if I didn’t make some changes soon.
I moved in with a boyfriend once I decided I wasn’t going back, and this began a string of abusive relationships. I never took the time to heal from the abuse and went from one to another. Two weeks after I left my husband, I heard he was in the hospital in a coma after being in a terrible accident. It was a drug deal gone bad. He was going approximately 115 mph and was being chased by someone, when he hit a tree and was then shot in the mouth and left for dead. He was in a coma for three days. I didn’t even recognize him when I went to see him. He lost an eye, broke his neck and spine and lost all his teeth. They had to reconstruct his face and wire his mouth shut. It was traumatic for me as well. I thought my life was over, which it was as I knew it. My husband was dead to me, and I was left to raise my three children alone.
He had drug charges brought against him, once they saw he was going to live. I got a settlement from our previous accident and paid for an attorney to help him and bought him another car. I was so brainwashed and was still in my disease. He moved in with me, my friend and my kids before being discharged by his doctors. He still had a trec in his throat, and I had to feed him though a straw.
I found out the boyfriend we were staying with was shooting heroin, and he started to get abusive and would kick me in the stomach with his steel-toed shoes. I helped my husband get on a bus to Texas to stay with his twin brother. I didn’t hear from him for ten years, and my kids grew up without their dad. I was there but not, as I was always running from the pain and fear of everything that had happened. I had gotten nine speeding tickets in a matter of two months, and getting pulled over a tenth time led to me being put in a squad car. The sheriff searched my car and found drugs, and he arrested me in my driveway as my daughters cried, “Don’t take my mommy!”
I was given five days in jail, fifteen days community service and a fine to clear up my tickets. I wish I could I say that was the end of my using, but that wasn’t the case. I signed up for community service and finished it and enrolled in my drug diversion class but never went back because I was still using. I was still living from place to place with my kids in tow and with another boyfriend, when I found out this boyfriend had violated my daughter and gotten her pregnant. She was afraid to tell me, because he had been abusive towards me too. He broke a glass microwave tray over my face, when I flipped it over while he was extracting Sudafed from cold pills. I had to go to the hospital and received five stitches in my face.
I left the hospital and met the boyfriend at the bar later, as I was still pretty sick in my disease. When I called the police on him, they arrested both of us, because I had a warrant for not completing my drug diversion class. He went back to prison. My children were taken from me for failure to protect them. I did a few days in jail and was released, but I didn’t have my kids, a place to go, income or any idea what to do.
I called my son, and he picked me up. I stayed with him at his in-laws for a couple of days. When I had to go to family court, my ex showed up with his new wife, and he was awarded custody of my girls. I lost it when they said that and was just lost. I was ordered to do my drug diversion classes, and I didn’t know how I was going to do that with no money. I ended up getting into a homeless shelter. My youngest daughter went to Florida with her dad and step mom, and my other daughter went to stay with my mom. We went back and forth to family court, and I was told to do things, if I wanted to be reunited with my girls. I was disappointed when it seemed like no matter what I did it was never enough to get them back. I was angry at everyone and wanted to sue them all. The courts, police, social workers. My ex who hadn’t had any contact with my kids in ten years and was a registered drug offender who left state while on probation. I never once looked at the idea that I was at fault.
I went to court one day, and my daughter told me she smelled marijuana when her dad came out of the bathroom while she was in Florida with him. She didn’t have to go back with him once that was disclosed and was able to stay with my mom. My daughter heard me talking about not having the money to sign up for my drug program, and she gave me her allowance. I started crying and thanked her. I was so glad my girls still loved me and trusted me even after all they went through with me.
I enrolled in my class and made arrangements to pay what I could, but I had to continue attending classes until it was paid off. I also enrolled in a day treatment program and went five days a week. I was able to get my girls to come stay with me at the shelter. We got a bus pass to get around town, while I did my program and attended daily meetings. While in treatment I got my GED, so I had some sense of hope that recovery was possible. I got my fines cleared up, felony charges were dropped completely and I got my driver’s license back. I opened a checking account after doing a check diversion class for writing bad checks. I completed both programs, and my girls were given back to me with full custody.
My first job, after being turned down by several and wanting to give up, was a medication nurse! I wanted to make sure they knew I was in recovery and only had a year clean. I was told that everyone deserves a second chance. I was so grateful. I worked there for four years. I rode the bus to and from work every day. If I missed my bus, I had to walk. I’d be crying when I called to tell my girls I’d be late, and they would laugh at me.
As I continued to to go to meetings, I would be on the bus with girls on their way to treatment. I overheard them complaining about the counselors. I cried and got off the bus one day and went in to talk to the director and was given permission to come in, volunteer and do the step-study group. I did that for a year, and I volunteered at my drug diversion program. I received client of the year at my day program and later became employed at both programs. I also worked at a boys’ group home on the weekends. When I had a few years clean, I interviewed for a job at a hospital where they did detox and rehab. I wasn’t hired but didn’t give up. I applied for another position, was called for an interview and was hired!
I was so excited to be where I was after coming from being homeless. Now I was successful and employable. I was 36 when I received my GED and went college for my drug and alcohol certificate. I worked at the hospital on the detox floor for about four years, and I interviewed for the intake coordinator position and got the job. I was on cloud nine. I got a new car and wanted for nothing. I worked there for almost ten years.
I stopped attending meeting and ended up relapsing after 13 years of sobriety. I put the job and worldly things before my relationship with God and my recovery. I felt lower than the lowest when that happened and wanted to die from the emotional pain and failure. I eventually had to go to a meeting after trying everything else. I went to the doctor for my depression and was given medication. I found help through therapy, church, self-help books and more. I suddenly realized God was doing for me what I could not do for myself. I went to my program and introduced my self as a newcomer, after I saw a girl that went to treatment with me introduce herself as a newcomer as well.
God willing I will have four years in September. I am still without a home of my own. I live with my daughter, do not have a job and have experienced several deaths recently. I was angry at God for letting all this pain happen again, but I am beginning to accept that I need to surrender to God and trust his will, not mine, will be done. I attend meetings, meet with my sponsor, work the steps, pray, help newcomers and sponsor other women. I attend church and was baptized recently and want a relationship with God today.