- Drugs
- Faith
- Mental Health
I’m Vicki, a thankful child and servant of God who is overcoming abandonment issues, being the child of an alcoholic and feeling the need for others’ approval. I’m also overcoming depression, anxiety and crack addiction.
In January 2003 I heard the sound of shattering glass as I threw my crack pipe through my condo window.
I was the firstborn child of a 15-year-old, and neither she nor her parents wanted me. An older couple did want me, so on the Sunday of my birth, they gladly came and took me. The very next week they had me in church. Church is where I was raised, where I was saved and where I dedicated my life to working with children.
My father was a football star, assistant coach and then most-winning coach in our hometown. He was friends with President John F. Kennedy, and he was from a prominent family with a good image. However our family had a secret: Dad, the hero and the legend, was a functional drunk. He got sober to adopt me when I was three, but he started drinking again. My little mind thought he was drinking because I was being bad, so I had to be good. I was considered a bad seed for being adopted, and I was deemed damaged goods when my family learned I was hearing impaired. I did everything I could to be good enough yet I never was. I didn’t know it wasn’t me; only God could help get my daddy get sober!
When I was three years old, Jesus and his disciples were my playmates. I talked, giggled and carried on with them until I was nine, and a neighbor told my parents. They told me I was too old for this. Jesus wasn’t really there with me, as He was in heaven. I kept talking to Jesus, but I didn’t do it out loud any more.
God, I never fully realized what blessings You provided. I had a family with money, a pony, a motorcycle, fancy cars, collectibles, a good education, a good career and a condo by the beach. Despite all this I felt like something was missing. I was depressed, had anxiety attacks, was overweight, wanted to be dead and felt so bad that I felt that way. I didn’t allow people to get close to me, because everyone in my family was supposed to project an image of strength. I wish I had then what I have now: the full knowledge of You and a personal, intimate relationship with You.
In 1976 I suddenly got the father I was supposed to have. You sobered Dad up and got him through the 12 steps. I was 18 years old. He and Mom were gone every night for a year. I got mad, but it did bring happiness to our family. After 25 years without a slip, my dad is an image of recovery and even more of a legend.
I didn’t get married or go to work like Daddy and the community wanted me to. I got my college degree and went to work for the state as a child services and abuse investigator. I felt that was the calling You gave me. I got my master’s degree and went to Florida. It was my dream come true, but leaving my parents, not staying and taking care of them, made me seem like a selfish, ungrateful, damaged, spoiled brat.
I worked hard, but I partied hard too. I didn’t realize what the partying was doing to me, what I was doing to myself. It was becoming too much for me. It was time to go home, but before I could return and be the good daughter, my mom died, and then my dad got sick and died too. The community blamed me. While my dad was sick, he lost his mind, and when he lost his mind, I did too. My world fell apart mentally, emotionally, spiritually and physically. I was scared and alone.
I tried crank in January 2002. It gave me energy and took the pain away. After a few months, my health failed further. I couldn’t keep up. I thought, “I’m no longer ‘super’ worker! I’m not good enough! I’m not strong enough! I’m failing! What do I do?” I asked to try crank again but was given crack. I kept using it. I was getting commendations at work and keeping up and exceeding the numbers.
My health continued to decline. My hip and knee degenerated, and I learned that I inherited early degeneration of the bones, organs and tissues. I used a cane and sometimes crutches, and my supervisor was concerned about my disability. I became fixated on money, possessions, a good image and keeping it all.
In November 2003 I realized I couldn’t get off crack. I was scared, and I began to think about killing myself. I thought I was alone. I lost my work contract because of my health, and I was no longer in control. I finally asked You, God, what to do. You told me to go home. I planned on going home to clean up the mess I made and then kill myself. I had been trying to since November. I even pulled the trigger on a colt .38. It didn’t go off in my mouth but did when I fired it at a tree.
I returned home in March. I stayed clean for a week until my dealer called and offered a freebie to celebrate my birthday. I went to get it and was arrested. My truest friend and her husband came over after church, and I was so ashamed. They knew something was wrong, so I told them I came home hooked on crack. I told them not to worry, as I was going to clean up the mess and kill myself. My truest friend said, “No, no, no.” I looked into her eyes, and they were not hers. They were those of Your son, Jesus. My truest friend of 20 years had been restored and gotten an intimate, personal relationship with You, Lord. She became Your vessel of good works. The first scripture she read to me was Jeremiah 29:11-13. She filled me with Your word in so many ways! She simply glowed with the joy and peace of being in Christ, and I wanted the same.
I stayed clean for three months and then went to Florida to finish up business. I met up with a boyfriend, got a hold some money and went through $1500 in 3 days. When he and I returned home, we took our eyes off Jesus, turned away from what was working and tried to use worldly means. We should have gotten right back into Jesus. No one person can stop addiction. No person can fix it. I kept relapsing until March 19, 2004.
I kept talking to You, Lord. I was journaling, going to church, reading and studying the Bible. You were always there protecting me and providing for me. It could have been so much worse. I was never alone through any of this, but I stupidly kept trying to handle things myself.
I became homeless just before I went into the hospital to have my hip and knee replacements, but God found me homes with good Christian women. He immersed me in Him in every possible way. During this time my truest friend read to me from the Bible. I learned to read the Bible every day and every time I got anxious over anything or took my eyes off Jesus. Finally I got it! I was never in control. I never needed all that material stuff. All I ever needed was You, Lord. It’s not “I,” it’s Christ! It’s all about trusting and believing, and I trusted, I believed and I got better.
God has provided a friend that sticks closer than family, a church family, income, housing and transportation. He has given me a life again, a real life. I rely on His strength and His power, not mine, and oh how very loved I am!