+ September 19th.

There used to be a time when you made me feel loved and wanted. I couldn't wait to come home after school on a Friday, knowing that you'd be waiting for me along with all of my favorite snacks, ready to give me a big hug and ask me how my day went. I used to sit on your lap while you helped me read my chapter books. You used to show up to things. You used to get to know my friends. You used to encourage me. But then you were ripped away from me. I watched as your addiction took over, but didn't know it was addiction at the time. I thought I was to blame. I watched as you became angry at the world until drugs and money were the only things that mattered anymore. Nothing was good enough for you, and nothing could save you...not even me. It took me a long time to realize what was even going on. I was old enough to know that drugs were bad, but still young enough that I had no idea what they looked like or how a person may act while taking them. I didn't know that when you locked yourself in your room with strangers you were getting high, or that it wasn't normal for people to sleep for a long as you did. I thought maybe that's what happens when you get older. But deep down I knew something was wrong, that's why I would call mom when you were asleep and have her come get Tyler and me. Remember you would wake up to breakfast and a note saying we went home? That's because my gut was telling me something wasn't right. I used to think that maybe if I had asked other adults more questions I would have figured it out sooner and I could've have gotten you help. I used to think that if maybe Tyler and I didn't fight as much, or if I didn't complain every time you told me to do something, that maybe you wouldn't have been so stressed out all the time. But the truth is, it wasn't my fault. It wasn't Tyler's fault. This was all on you. I didn't ask for you to be ripped away from me, but that's what I got. I didn't ask for the letters you sent while you were in prison, but I still read them all. I didn't want to explain to my friends' parents why your name was in the paper, but I did it regardless. I don't know if I ever told you but people bullied me at school when I had to explain my dad was in prison. They would laugh at me, and say mean things. They would ask why you didn't show up to my school events or soccer games or brag about how much fun they had with their dads. I envied them and the relationship they had with their dads. Which made me so mad at you. All I ever actually wanted was for you to pick me for once in your life, but you couldn't do that. You couldn't confront your own demons, nevermind choose me over them. I get it now. But you never took a second to think about what you were doing to us. You ripped the family apart. You ripped my sibling's apart. You fucked me up. What is a child to do when the one person in the whole world that was supposed to be my protector besides my mother leaves me? I promised myself a few years ago that I would never become you. I would never let any kind of drug ruin my life. It pisses me off to see you take credit for how I turned out. “I'm so proud of my baby. Raising you is the greatest thing I've ever done. You are the best thing that ever happened to me." Complete bullshit. You were never around to raise me. When you were around you weren't mentally there. Any success I've had hasn't come from you or your guidance. I got to where I am today with absolutely no help from you. You don't get to come into my life now that I'm almost an adult and take all the credit. You don't get to try to tell me what I can and can't do, as if you have some kind of authority on my decisions. You had your chance to raise me and be a part of my life, but you blew it. You chose drugs, and your addiction led you to years in prison. I don't owe you a single thing. But what I do want you to know is I do love you, I am proud of you for staying sober, but I'm still hurt inside that I wasn't enough for you to get sober to avoid being taken from my life. Just like you have to figure out who you are without drugs, I am still figuring out who I am as a teenager while trying to figure out who you are too. Nobody said this was ever going to be easy, but they also didn't mention how hard it would be either. We can't turn back time, we can't change the past, but we can get to know each other again, it's just going to take some time. I love you Dad, I always have.

+ September 18th.

I remember my life like you'd remember a movie you saw ten years ago, that you never paid much attention to in the first place. A few outstanding clips at a time, that make no sense until you put them together… I remember being an outstanding ballerina. I remember the day I got my pointe shoes and how proud I was. I remember how happy I was when I met my first husband. I think of the house we shared together and the family that I almost had. Then somehow I'm in a house, and I don't remember how I got there. But I am making a conscious effort to remember something... What am I trying to remember? I look around and see dirty white walls. There are skinny men sitting on a queen-sized bed with me, the only furniture in the room. Smoke fills the room and there are no sheets on the bare mattress...there is something in small bags being handed to me. Am I trying to remember to breathe? I wonder how I got here and swear to myself I'll never come back. Suddenly I'm in a motel room with a different man. I know this man. He is my friend. And he is vomiting in the bathroom. There are SpaghettiOs splattered across the wall and a bowl with the remnants bleeding out onto the carpet. It's too hard to eat with all the chemicals coursing through your body I guess. I think of what a waste those SpaghettiOs were and finally catch a glimpse of a girl sitting across from me. I cock my head at the familiarity of her, and she stares back. She has matted purple hair, and there's no color in her eyes. Only pupils. She's too thin and her skin hangs off her like wet laundry. I feel so bad for this girl. Where are your parents? I start to ask, only then realizing that I'm staring into a mirror. He comes out of the bathroom shoving supplies at me and begging for my help to get the next fix. I promise myself I'll never come back. I'm in a new motel room. I am not in my home town anymore, and I have no idea where I actually am. It smells like sweat and sadness. There is a man I've never seen before, and a woman I know well. We are all getting undressed and for some reason, I'm silently crying. There are drugs on the tiny side table and the man is making me do them. I tell him I can't do any more. My eyes feel like they're vibrating and it's getting hard to breathe. The woman tells me I need to pull it together, this is a really good deal. Don't blow it. He forces the drugs into me while I float in and out of consciousness. I am aware enough to realize what I have done, but I believe I am too far gone to change it. Next, I'm driving my car. I don't know where I'm going, but apparently the car does, and I stop at a house in a neighborhood that no middle-class ballerina should ever be. I think of how much I hate myself. I try to remember anything from the last month, but I only remember a roller coaster of being awake 10+ days at a time and doing whatever was necessary to escape myself until the next sunrise. A man approaches my car who I've never seen before, and it's now that I realize I'm death gripping a little white bag in my hand and he's got a $50 dollar bill. God help me, I'm selling drugs. I'm selling the drugs that I sold my body for. How did I get here? I'm spiraling. I look up into the eyes of this man. He doesn't belong here either. But here we are. He stumbles through his words with me and promptly makes his escape. I pull over one block from his house to vomit and I black out again. Next is another motel room. The man I sold drugs to is sitting with me on the bed. We are crying. He is holding me. He grabs my face and forces me to look at him. "I love you." He says. "Do you hear me? I love you. I love you enough." I look down at my arms. They are bruised along my veins. What have I done? Where has my life gone? And most importantly why am I wearing a tank top? I haven't shown my arms since that first lonely night in the dirty white house. He knows my secret. "I won't help you anymore. And I'm done doing this anymore. From this day on, I swear to you I will be a better me because that's the me you need." I am gone again. Now I am in the same motel room. The same bed. My things are around me. How long since I've woken up in the same place twice? A month? A year?.... Almost 2 years. It has only been one day. But today is the one day that counts. Today feels different. I am anxious and I feel like I need a fix. Where is the man? Where is the man who loves me? He comes to check on me every hour. He works at the motel. Before this new day, he was also cooking methamphetamines. I stare out the window, hopeful, terrified, and filled with guilt. I wonder if I'll still wake up here tomorrow. And I did. I woke up in that room, with that man who'd just quit 20 years of drug use because he decided that day was the day. I woke up without drugs every day. I was angry some days, proud others. There were days I screamed at him that I was leaving and I'd go get high for days before dragging myself back asking for forgiveness. And eventually, we made it. We were homeless for 9 months after my mom sent us to Arkansas because he lost his job and our room. It was a fight every day to earn our lives back from ourselves. It's been almost 3 years since I sold drugs to the same cook that dragged me kicking and screaming to the sober life, and I'm so grateful he did. My mom and that man are the reason I get up and fight to be better every day. And if a little ballerina with no hope at all can win, anybody can.

+ September 17th

Becoming a grandmother is one of life’s most cherished gifts. Grandchildren teach us a new depth of love. From newborn to teenagers, every day brings newly discovered joy...and sometimes sorrow. My first grandson was the light of my life. I was involved in his life from the day he was born. He kept his childhood trauma well hidden. A happy but sometimes mischievous little boy, he stumbled while growing up...demons I suppose from deeply repressed issues. He got involved with other troubled kids and discovered drugs. I imagine drugs helped ease his pain...for a while, a very short while. It wasn’t long before he was arrested for drug possession. That didn’t stop him. He lost many close friends to overdose. That didn’t stop him. He was arrested several more times...I lost count. I’d lay awake nights he went out, freezing in my tracks when the phone rang. After years of living on eggshells, I no longer feared a call from the Police about another arrest. No, I feared “the call.” I knew it was coming, I just didn’t know when. I fought his demons with him for years. I never gave up, I refused to throw in the towel. And then it happened. I don’t remember the day, I don’t recall why...he got help!!! He worked hard, got clean, and found a job working for a small but very successful company. The company owner gave us both life’s greatest gifts. In addition to being his boss, he also took on the role of mentor, father, and friend. I was finally able to let go and breathe. What a precious gift to see my grandson now. He’s independent, successful, but most of all he is free!! I look back and cry...not sure how either of us made it through but we did and at 70 years old I realize that was the greatest accomplishment in my life. And I know my grandson will continue his journey happy and drug-free.

+ September 16th

My name is Shannon and I am a person in recovery. That in itself is a miracle. I grew up in a small, wealthy suburb of Boston known for its amazing school system. It is also one of the safest towns in the country (addiction does NOT discriminate and can happen anywhere). My parents divorced when I was about 6 years old, and shortly after that my older sister, mom, new stepdad, and I moved. Then they had a child together. There were a lot of life changes in a short time, but I was young so I really didn’t think it affected me, however, I realized later that it had. For the most part, I had a great upbringing with 3 parents who loved me and two sisters. We always had dinner together at the table and holidays were always full of family, food, presents, and great memories. For some reason though, I felt different. I was a tomboy growing up, so I hated dressing up and playing with dolls. When we moved, it was to a neighborhood of mostly older boys, and to fit in I played outside with them. Every day after school we were outside riding bikes, playing football or basketball, flashlight tag, ding dong ditch, etc. I played sports in school and got good grades. In middle school, I started to feel alone and different. All the girls in my grade were dressing up and wearing makeup, and I was still wearing jeans and a t-shirt with zero interest in makeup. The boys in my grade didn’t pay any attention to me and I was never a part of the “in” crowd. I got along with everybody for the most part and I think being on sports teams helped that. I suppose sports were my outlet for a while and I was really good at them. Everything on the outside seemed good and “normal” but inside I was a mess. I wished I was different. I wished I was like the other girls in my school. I often jumped from friend to friend, never really finding where I belonged because I didn’t like who I was. After freshman year in high school, I decided I was going to take a break from sports and focus more on studying and enjoy being a teen and hanging out with friends, instead of going to practice and being told what to do. See, I didn’t like being told what to do even then! Well, this is really where it all started. I started hanging out with the wrong crowd, the ones who hung out downtown after school with no real purpose. Then I started smoking cigarettes, and I loved that rebellious feeling and knowing that I was doing something I wasn’t supposed to be doing. Then I tried smoking marijuana and loved it. I loved the feeling. I loved how it made me feel different than how I was feeling at that moment. It made me happy and relaxed. Towards the end of my freshman year, I found my group of girlfriends where I finally felt like I could be myself. We all smoked marijuana after school every day and that’s just how the rest of high school went. We would drink here and there when our parents went out and we could sneak it or hit a couple of parties, but nothing too crazy. Senior year in high school my friends would come to my house and drink at cookouts and parties and stay over. It was normal for me to see adults drink, get drunk, and have fun, and I looked forward to doing the same. I went off to UMass Amherst and wow, what a party. It started as weekend drinking/partying, then became a nightly thing. This is where I experienced blackouts for the first time, but I thought it was normal college kid behavior. However, after a year or so of drinking until I blacked out and passed out, I thought it was strange that my friends were always telling me the embarrassing things I did the night before and I could never remember. Again, I thought it was normal and they just didn’t party hard enough so I brushed it off. I took pride in how much I could drink and how messed up I got. I thought I was “cool” because of that. I am honestly lucky that nothing serious happened to me then. I woke up in someone else’s dorm room with my pants off under their coffee table and thought I was in my own room, how scary! After two years of that, I decided to transfer schools and attend Framingham State where I could live at home, work, and hang out with old high school friends. This is really where my addiction took off because I thought I was a failure. I was introduced to opiates, OxyContin, and instantly fell in love. I truly believe I was born an addict because someone could hand me a dirty pill and tell me it will mess me up and I will take it without hesitation. Non-addicts don’t do that. I very quickly became addicted to opiates, where my body needed the substance to function. If I didn’t get high I got extremely sick from withdrawals, and it was absolute hell so I just continued using to prevent that. I dropped out of college, my relationships with friends and family members declined, and I became a shell of a person, a walking zombie going through the motions of life. I lost all ambition and no longer felt feelings. At this time, I could recognize this and be able to put the substances down for a bit. Then I turned 21 and wanted to know what the bar rooms were about. Our society idolizes alcohol and the party atmosphere. It is poison so why do we do this? As soon as I put a drink in my system I couldn't stop until I either passed out or someone made me stop. This is the allergy that they talk about in the big book of Alcoholics Anonymous. I instantly wanted to get high on any substance I could and obsessed over when I could get high, how I was going to get high, etc. The obsession was so strong I couldn’t fight it alone. Addiction took over my life once again. I got arrested for possession of cocaine and spent the night in the cell. The next morning, I was told I needed to go to AA with my aunt or find a new place to live. I chose AA. Thank God for AA and my aunt. I followed her to meetings every day and she introduced me to the program and all the wonderful people in it. For once I felt like I could relax and that I belonged somewhere. My life got better. I got 9 months of sobriety and a job that I loved. My relationships with family and friends were better. Life was good. Unfortunately I allowed the things that AA gave me to become more important and ultimately took me out. I relapsed. Hard. In a matter of 4 months, I went from drinking, to smoking crack, to shooting heroin. I swore I would never do heroin and definitely never use a needle. But addiction is a powerful, cunning beast, and I had no defense against it. The drugs told me what to do and when to do it. I lied, cheated, stole, and manipulated all the people close to me. I became the person I hated, a selfish liar. I was not the daughter I should have been, the sister my sisters needed and deserved, or the friend I should have been. Once again, I was a walking zombie, helpless and hopeless. I broke my family’s heart. They didn’t know if I was going to come home or end up dead. The thought of putting my family through that today hurts so much. My higher power was looking out for me and I decided to go back to AA. I had enough, I was broken and beaten and had nothing left in me. When I crawled back into the halls on November 28th, 2013 I fully surrendered. I was willing to do whatever it took to stay sober and live a better life. I started getting numbers and hanging out with other people in AA. I got a sponsor and called her and told her how I was feeling and what I was struggling with. I worked the 12 steps and took a look at myself and where I wronged people. I started to raise my hand in meetings and share my experience, strength, and hope. I also went on commitments with my AA group members. I owe my life to AA. I would be dead if it weren’t for this amazing program. At one point in time I thought I would be better off dead, and that everyone around me would be better off. I thought I was worthless. Today I can say I AM WORTH IT. We are all worth it. My family has me back and I love spending time with them. I am an aunt, and seeing my niece and nephew smile gives me the greatest joy. Seeing newcomers stick with the program and recover is a gift. I met my fiancé in AA and we have an amazing life together. Someone who loves me fully for who I am and wants to spend the rest of his life with me. How amazing! I care about other people and want everyone to be happy and healthy. I have dreams and hopes again. In recovery, I went back to college and graduated with my Bachelors in Psychology, and I even did well in school and enjoyed learning. I have found new hobbies. I have a whole new perspective on life. Each day is a new gift and I just try to use what I have learned in recovery to be a better person than I was yesterday. I am still human and make mistakes and have bad days, but my bad days today are way better than my “best” day using. I learned how to pray in recovery, and trust in God that I am where I am supposed to be and that everything will work out the way it should. It is such a simpler way to live. Addicts/alcoholics are not bad people. We are sick people who don’t know that there is a way out. Recovery is possible for anyone who wants it, but you have to work for it. Sometimes it is really hard, but I can promise that it will be the best thing you ever did. If you are struggling please, please ask someone for help. Try out a meeting and introduce yourself. The people in AA genuinely care about you and just want to see you get better. I have met the most amazing people, who I consider family today, in the halls of AA. I thought my life would be over having to attend meetings and being sober at such a young age. I have so much more fun sober. I go kayaking and fishing, snowboarding, I go to concerts and can remember them! I go to cookouts and parties and don’t make a fool of myself or start fights. I own a house today that I am making a home with my fiancé and dog. Hopefully, someday it will be full of kids and family. I am 31 years old and so excited about my future and life. Recovery is possible and recovery is amazing. It is the greatest gift in the world and anyone can have it. Please, come join us, we love you.

+ September 14th.

I suppose everyone wrestles with where to start when it comes time for The Big Share. Hi, I’m Ryan and I’m an Alcoholic. I’m sure, like everyone else, there are a thousand moments I could tell you about to begin illustrating the point. But the point is, I’m an alcoholic. I’ve been sober for 318 days. About a year ago, I found myself sitting in the emergency room of a Cape Cod hospital. I was shaking and shivering almost uncontrollably, the waves of sweat, hot flashes, and massive bolts of anxiety continued to roll over me as they had for the past 24 hours or so. My left middle finger (tightly bandaged due to nearly slicing it to the bone and rupturing the nail bed, while drunk two nights previous) throbbed nearly non-stop, and every few minutes I felt like vomiting. I was convinced something serious was going on (a side effect of a recent surgery after a life-threatening injury). I looked across the waiting room at a guy nearly my age, in seriously rough shape. He was wearing dingy clothing, hair greasy and messy, and he was wrapped in a blanket and shivering. I remember feeling bad for him as he clearly was, as I was so astute in recognizing, a junkie in trouble. One good thing, at least I wasn’t that guy.
Three IV bags, a small script for anti-nausea meds, and a few low-toned comments from the E.R. doctor recommending that I “Take it easy man. Slow down and take care of yourself,” and I was on my way. While I was sitting there, alone in the E.R. in the middle of a summer day, something I had pushed and held waaaaay down low for a very long time, began to speak louder and louder. Something was very wrong with me. I was the same guy as the dude across from me in the waiting room. I began to realize I needed to make a change.
In my intake at the local community services, assessing me to match with a sobriety coach, I explained what was going on. My life was falling apart around me and I didn’t know what to do. I knew I needed help. I wanted some tools to learn to pace myself and control my drinking. I wanted to lock it down and get a handle on things. MY life, what I wanted, MY way, the way I wanted. I don’t need to explain the progression or regale you with war stories, I’ll just explain basically what it looked like at the end. I rarely drank with any intention. If I did have an intention, it would be to get obliterated, and that was accomplished far more than intended. I drank to drink and very rarely realized when I was drunk. I never felt the off switch or had that feeling of whoa, slow down. At the end were a lot of unexplained bruises, nearly cracked ribs, black eyes, bleeding and bruised knuckles and a helicopter ride to Boston. All while, and because I was drinking. I had recently lost a high profile coaching position in my community, due to a very public display of consumption. My wife was threatening to leave me due to my drinking, which was nearly all of the time when I wasn’t teaching. I was smoking nearly a pack of cigarettes a day (I teach PE), and I weighed 250 lbs. I had just celebrated my second wedding anniversary at Fenway Park. I finished dinner by vomiting in the street just outside the front door of the restaurant. I drank every day. I “loved the jar.” I thought about drinking every day. Everything I did and everywhere I went revolved around my next cocktail. My sobriety coach interviewed me for the first time and told me she didn’t know if I was an alcoholic; “Phew, dodged that bullet” or so I thought. Eventually though, she convinced me to give a meeting a try. So I went and it was just the same as everyone else describes it. I’ve learned I’m not terminally unique, and in fact, have a lot in common with many people. The first time in a meeting is a story I have heard expressed a thousand times over already. I decided to keep going; a lot made sense and it felt kinda good. As I write this I can be more honest...I knew I was an alcoholic a long long time ago. I didn’t want to admit it, because then the cat would be out of the bag. The fucking jig was up. If I admitted it, it meant ownership. It meant I’d have to do something about it. It meant that I was the source of most, if not all of my problems, in one way or another. Fuck.
I think I went to sporadic meetings for a couple of weeks before I started going every day. I waited and waited, and so I’m told from group members now so did they, to finally mutter the words, “Hi, I’m Ryan. I’m an Alcoholic.” I was filled with a million mixed emotions: rage, fear, confusion, terror, and regret. Best of all though, I was desperate. Since that moment on that day, October 13, 2019, nothing ‘bad’ (as I have come to realize) has happened to me. (Un)fortunately, the fate of my relationship with my wife and my path to recovery, sobriety, and some type of spiritual condition are tightly intertwined. I so badly do not want this to be. BUT, it’s not about what I WANT. SO, I’ll continue to wait and see, trusting in my higher power that one day I will understand. If not, that's okay too, because who the hell am I to determine what is, or isn’t required of my comprehension? I need daily reminders to put myself in check and stay right-sized. I can’t begin to know or understand what is happening on the other side of any other street so I will stay on mine. What I will say is, that every person is ultimately responsible for the decisions they make, and the universe always unfolds as it should and is planned. Twelve years ago I destroyed another man’s marriage by carrying on a 2-year affair with his wife. My higher power chose to utilize a sledgehammer to teach and reveal to me truths that would eventually set me firmly in my path, and prove to me he held me in his loving hands. I am writing this from the comfort of my recliner and enjoying a Bruins game in the background; not from a jail cell. I firmly believe that God not only showed me everything I needed to see, but he also gave me the strength to practice principles in all of my affairs. I sleep deeply throughout the night and my hands are clean. I had to move out of my house without most of my things, except for my clothes, bed and tv. I had to navigate the legal path of obtaining a divorce. My TV broke. I was completely broke and owed about $12,000 in credit debt. I had to leave my grandfather’s cat behind with my ex-wife. A pandemic gripped the country and planet. There were many times when I sat and debated with myself if any of it was worth it. I was completely broken down to a place where I was stripped totally bare. I thank God I finally found desperation. I was still sober too. Since admitting I was an alcoholic, nothing bad has happened to me. I have come to believe that every single thing in my life has happened for a reason. My higher power has been with me all along. He has placed things in my path, and whether I chose to see and hear those messages was up to me, but they were there. My problem, I’ve come to realize, is that I thought I was in control. I wanted what I deserved. Ya know what? I got everything I needed, and always have. One of the things that I’ve heard along my newfound path is that “Mercy is not getting what we deserve and Grace is getting everything we don’t deserve.” Every morning I thank God for his Grace and his Mercy. Without his, I would have none. Thank God I didn’t get everything I deserved, because honestly what I got was nearly too painful to bear. I’ve also come to learn that I need not fear. God has never put anything upon me that I couldn’t carry or handle. If things hurt, they hurt for a reason. It is my job to feel those things, and through them learn and discover my true self - without fighting. For me, the path to serenity goes through acceptance. My life gets better every single day. I no longer dry heave in the morning. I haven’t had a hangover in 317 days. I’ve accepted my connection with a higher power and work every day to build upon it. I quit smoking in May during the quarantine. I wake up most mornings around 4:30 and typically ride my bike between 15-25 miles a day. I’ve begun getting into birdwatching and geocaching. I’ve saved some money, paid my debts, am supporting myself, and no longer have to accept charity housing. My mother sleeps through the night and doesn’t worry about me constantly. I wish I could live 1,000 more years so that I could uphold my living amends of staying sober (and being happy - her requirement of me) so that I could begin to make up for the pain I caused my own mother. I’ve lost 65 pounds and most of the people I know look straight through me with no recognition. I watch the sunrise almost daily and get on my knees to begin every day with heartfelt thanks. I am grateful for all of the gifts given to me, freely, from God and through sobriety. All I had to do was let go, clean house and trust in God. I am most grateful for God’s gift of desperation. I spent many, many years working to actively kill myself with alcohol. I seriously did not care, and deep down truly hoped one day it might happen. I really didn’t care. Now, I am hungrier for life than I think I have ever been. My mother tells me 2020 is my year of vision. She’s right. The fog has indeed lifted and I see more now than I ever have before. Some would say I’m crazy and that my life is a mess; many would probably agree. However, other people’s opinions of me are none of my business (another gem I’ve picked up). As far as I am concerned, my life is perfect. I have everything I need and always will. If I want it, it doesn’t mean I need it. I get what I need, when I need it, and I’m okay with that. My higher power has never failed me. All of the gifts that I have received, and all of the improvements in my life, have come because I put my ass in the seat, listened, and did my best to learn. The ENTIRE ‘village’ has been there for me and supported me each day and every step of the way. This may be an inside job, but I needed a ton of outside help. It was given freely, and ultimately graciously, from those who share the circle with me. As I look forward, there is a long, long road out of the woods. I am far from ‘cured,’ ‘healed’ or ‘recovered’. I wake up every morning just as sick as I was the day before and it takes me the entire day to treat myself. Treating myself looks different these days and requires me to help others, in any way I can. If I truly want this, I have to keep my hands off of the wheel and continue to give it away, as it was given to me. I’m Ryan and I’m an Alcoholic. I’ll keep listening and keep coming back.

+ September 13th.

I’m Lisa Newell. I'm bipolar and I’m in recovery from abusing alcohol and drugs. I grew up in Miami, Florida born to parents from Massachusetts. I have to say the mood swings started young. I went into a major depressive episode around the age of 12, from there periods of risky behaviors and endless amounts of time in bed followed me through my 20s and 30s. During all those years I went to therapists and psychiatrists but there was never a diagnosis or any medication. I did however manage to accomplish things such as an undergraduate degree in Fine Art from the University of Florida and a Cum Laude degree from law school here in Massachusetts, where I moved and never left. I started a number of different career paths following each degree and finally ended up working for DMH as an Attorney. When I was younger I had a serious substance abuse problem, but managed to get sober at the age of 30 and remain so for the next 18 years. In sobriety, the mood swings remained and then I started working for DMH and they were getting worse. Previous to then I was diagnosed with depression and put on medication. Later on, while I began working there a medical doctor prescribed a dangerous combination of drugs that took me into a psychotic break. I began hearing command voices from God and became aggressive and angry. At DMH my relatively new supervisor came into my office one day and asked me about a witness for an upcoming hearing. I started screaming at him, I was mortified at the words that were coming out of my mouth but I could not stop myself. He just stood there while I did all this with his mouth open and walked out, probably lucky just to escape. Afterward, I called my psychiatrist and said that I needed to go to the hospital. Once there I was immediately diagnosed as bipolar, which looking back fit the extremes in my mood swings throughout life. Fast forward to 12 years later, I’m now retired and a lot of changes have taken place. The biggest and worst thing that I had done was start to drink again. For the next ten years, I would be hospitalized over 25 times, it was the worst decision I had ever made. I was a mess, everyone I encountered tried to help. I wanted to quit, but after 30 to 60 days I would throw in the towel and begin the horror show anew. My depressive episodes were frequent and I went to new lows. I took my meds piecemeal, and of course, they don't work well that way. The police knew me, the ambulance drivers knew me, the doctors and nurses knew me, the programs knew me, and around and around we go. Somehow I got DMH services and was connected to Riverside. I had my first set of workers through CBFS, my Rehab Advocate was Kara, I also had an Employment Specialist named Mike, and a Sobriety Advocate named Jen. I do believe God sent them all into my life. I was still drinking but tried to be semi-sober during appointments at my apartment. I continued to go to hospitals and programs while they stuck with me. It got to a point also that my family had had enough, they couldn’t do this with me anymore and I never felt so alone. Then one day I was discharged from a program after being accused of doing something I did not do. I was sitting in the back of the cab, with nowhere to go. Somehow right then I’d had enough. I made a call to a place I’d been before, the Riverside Respite Program in Norwood. I spoke with Emily who was the Director and asked her if she had a bed. She said yes, and that was the day my life changed. The cab took me to respite and I lived there for almost 2 months. I was scared but finally committed to sobriety. I had nowhere to go and I was homeless for the first time in my life. Emily worked hard at getting me into a Riverside dual diagnosis house called Milton Street. I ended up living there for the next year and a half. I was taking the medication regularly and adjusting to a sober life. While at Milton St, I became a proud member of the Neponset River House and it turned my life around. This is a clubhouse for people like me. I got very active, volunteering to do anything and everything I could. I got my confidence back and I became a person I liked again. And while at NRH I became a Certified Peer Specialist and started looking for a job again, I continued to work with Mike for employment. After living at Milton St for a year and a half I was told Riverside would subsidize an apartment for me. I found a great place in Walpole where I still live with my dog, Izzy. In the meantime, my family came back into my life as well, and I finally got that peer specialist job. I now work at the respite in Norwood where my story began. I no longer need CBFS (now ACCS) but I do work with DMH and my case manager there is Kara who was my very first RA. And the night manager there is Emily who let me come into that respite. It’s a small and wonderful world. Ultimately just as all these steps were necessary to recover, the people who did and are still helping me are absolutely vital for guidance along the way. You heard in my story how there were many different programs I took advantage of. Some hold you tightly while you’re still wavering and some are like a parent taking training wheels off a bicycle. People being served and riding that bike might wobble a bit and then take off, or they might wobble and fail and need a hand up. Either way there is someone from a service standing by ready to fulfill the need for those like me. We have a lifelong illness that stands ready to creep back in when ignored, taking over and causing chaos in our life when it’s running smoothly. Although I’m working part-time, I still jealously guard my membership at NRH, as it's where I can always go to see my family of choice.

+ September 12th.

2 years ago I gained the courage to walk in a new direction. My name is Autumn and I’m an addict celebrating 2 years in recovery! I’m also so much more than that. I’m a mother to soon to be 2 beautiful baby girls. I’m a wife to my loving husband. I’m a sister to 4 wonderful siblings. I’m a daughter to my parents and a granddaughter to my grandparents. I’m an auntie to 4 beautiful nieces and soon to be nephew. I’m also a friend to those I’ve connected with in my life. Yes, I’m an addict, a recovering addict, and today I get to celebrate 2 years clean! Addiction is powerful, it will take a person and destroy every moral they once held onto. It will turn a happy family, into a grieving family, waiting for their loved one to return home. Sadly, not all do make it home. But there’s always a bigger picture that’s often for seen by many. Addiction is a disease and the drugs are the symptom. We use that first time, but from then on, the addiction becomes far more powerful and takes complete control of a our life. Many years of my life were spent in isolation, I never had the family I have today. It was a day to day survival. Everyone knew me as a junkie, a tweaker, an alcoholic, a liar, a thief, a worthless human with no future... I was once told “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” referring to the fact that both my parents were addicts and I was seen to be the troubled child who followed in their footsteps. The only thing that mattered to me was finding my next fix. And I’d do anything to get it. But I still had feelings, I just chose to numb them. The pain was so deep, I never knew any better way to cope than getting high. I never wanted to be an addict, I never wanted this for my life at all. And even though I destroyed everything I’d ever known as a normal life, I was still Autumn, that daughter, that sister, that auntie, that cousin, that friend. One minute I’m using for fun, the next I’m so deep in my addiction, even I forgot who I once was. People often don’t find any empathy for addicts. They presume they deserve die, they hear of overdoses and say the addict doesn’t deserve to be saved. I look at it this way, that addict made some very poor decisions, do you really think they deserve to lose their life over it? Lose every bit of their potential? When I look at myself today, I am understanding for those that never believed in me, but also amazed with who I’ve become. I find a lot of gratitude in the chances I was given. I believe in consequences, but I don’t believe any person deserves to lose their life over making a poor decision. Narcan saved my life, I didn’t deserve to die. I’m thankful for a second, third and fourth chances. I couldn’t imagine my family mourning the loss of their daughter, sister, auntie, cousin, and friend... Never judge those around you who may be suffering. You don’t know their story. You don’t know what they are going through. Until you have been there, you will never understand. I just hope to change someone’s perspective today, I hope more will find the truth of addiction. Because you know what, we do recover. We can change, and we are still good people. I will always be an addict. But it’s the life I choose to make today that defines who I truly am. I have become a wife and mother to a beautiful family of my own whom I will protect with my entire life. I have found happiness within myself and those around me. I have a very bright future. Which in turn, means I need to protect myself, and my clean date. I will hold onto it with everything in me. Yes I’m an addict, but I’m also Autumn. I will never let my past define who I am today. I am so grateful to be here today, to share this passage with those I care about, those who may still be suffering and to set a good example for my own children. My daughters are my saving grace, I do this for me but they’ve got my back every step of the way.

+ September 11th.

In the interest of anonymity, I simply would like to introduce myself as a 31-year-old male alcoholic and addict. I have been to over a dozen rehabs, detoxes, long-term facilities and psych wards as a result of my disease. Each relapse was shorter and more severe. My parents have found me overdosed and practically dead more than once, an overwhelmingly traumatic experience for both of them. Their PTSD is real. If the phone rings at night, their reaction is fear that I may be dead. So I am not only hurting myself but those who love me too. One overdose was so bad that I had to spend 2 months in the hospital and another six months of physical therapy to walk again. This relapse also resulted in kidney failure and a need for dialysis. I also made a deliberate attempt at suicide to no avail. I know what it is like to be in such a dark place that I just wanted to be gone. By the grace of God, I am not only alive and fully immersed in my recovery, but I have also repaired the relationships that mattered to me most. I no longer dread waking up in the morning. I have found a purpose. My recovery is not possible without first understanding, acknowledging and accepting that I am truly an addict and an alcoholic. My reaction to mind-altering substances differs from moderate or even hard users and drinkers. This is an allergy in the physical sense. Now someone who has a peanut allergy does not constantly obsess over how they can ingest peanuts without triggering the allergy. Yet, my mind consistently lies, telling myself that I can use and/or drink and that I will maintain control. There is a lot of evidence in my life that I cannot maintain control. The mental obsession and the spiritual malady (feeling restless, irritable, and discontent when I don’t have drugs or alcohol) can be treated. So, I firmly believe that I used drugs and alcohol as a solution to my emotional distress. When that solution is no longer available, an alternative solution must be put into place. For me, that is AA, the 12 steps, and my higher power, whom I call God. Instead of trying to find an external identity in culture or society, I have found an internal identity through spirituality. I no longer attach my happiness to the results of the circumstances of my life. It must come from within. In other words, instead of tying my contentment or happiness to things outside myself (make more money, buy a bigger house, look a certain way, have the beautiful wife, etc.) I now face the emotions and no longer fear them. I believe that I suffer more in imagination than I do in reality. One who suffers before it is necessary will always suffer more than necessary. So through this process, I have experienced addition by subtraction. I let character defects go such as dishonesty, selfishness, ego, judgment, and my own self will (subtraction) and in return, I have received so many gifts (addition). First and foremost, I am able to sit with myself sober now. I could never do that before. My emotions do not swing wildly anymore. The reconnection with my family has been nothing short of amazing. I get to play with my 4-year-old niece and my 2-year-old nephews because I am now trusted. I make a point of seeing my parents every week and spending genuine time with them. I’m healthy, I got out of all my debt, I am no longer on probation, I no longer take Suboxone or any psych medications and I also quit smoking. None of that holds a candle to the time I have spent with my loved ones. That is the greatest gift recovery could ever give me. Mark Twain said the two most important days in a person's life are the day they are born and the day they find out why. I now realize that I had several broken belief systems and that helping other people in any way is far more fulfilling than any amount of money or power has ever given me. One day at a time, I have recovered from a hopeless state of mind and body. It is possible! I urge you to take a look at your life and ask yourself, “Do I want better?”

+ September 10th.

I believe that my addiction started well before I ever put a drink or a drug into my body. I believe that I was born with the mental obsession of more, although what it was that I wanted more of changed over time. The first time I drank alcohol I was 12 years old, I didn’t have that off switch. I drank until I had alcohol poisoning and almost died. Alcoholism is a progressive disease, and my story progressed from the moment I put any mind-altering substance into my body. I began to need more of the substance, and even different substances, until finally that led me to heroin. Between the ages of 18 and 26, I lost absolutely everything. I went from being in college, studying to become a teacher, to living on the street, sleeping in parks and baseball fields. Something bad didn’t happen every time I drank or used drugs, but every time something bad happened I was drinking or using drugs. I lost all hope for the future and was simply living to die. The best thing that ever happened to me was the day I was arrested in 2015. This was the first time that I surrendered, and I finally could stop running and hiding. This was the first day of the rest of my life. Nothing got better overnight, I had to put in a lot of work. I entered into treatment centers and I stayed there for about a year. Some days I laughed, I was able to truly enjoy life for the first time that I could remember. Other days I cried, life didn’t stop happening and become perfect just because I got sober. I’ve always been told the best thing about recovery is you get all your feelings back, and the worst thing about recovery is you get all your feelings back. No matter how hard life got I continued to put one foot in front of the other, some days I was just taking baby steps, others I was moving in leaps and bounds. I was able to work through a lot of traumas from my active addiction. I learned coping skills and I learned a new way of living. The extreme emotions became less extreme and I began to learn how to respond in a healthy manner to whatever happened. I said earlier that addiction is a progressive disease, but recovery is a progressive answer. The first time I took a huge leap of faith in myself, was when I made the decision to go back to college. I was terrified that I was not going to be “good enough” and I would not be able to do it. Again, I continued to put one foot in front of the other and I continued to do the best I could every day. In 2019, I graduated with my BA in Psychology as Valedictorian of my class. I say this because an addict and alcoholic is not a stupid person, they are a sick person! Yes, I have made a lot of poor choices but that does not make me a bad person, and I’m so grateful for the amazing people in my circle who have taught me that. Right after undergrad I continued my education and entered into the Counseling Psychology graduate program, I want to be able to help others find themselves. I look forward to watching others grow and light up when they finally feel hope for the first time. I have worked with many alcoholics and addicts throughout my journey, I am continually in awe at each and every one of them as they teach me so much every day. In 2019 I married my best friend, an amazing man in recovery, in a beautiful ceremony where the thought of a drink or a drug never crossed my mind that day or night. Since then, the pandemic has turned our lives upside down, just like many others. Although that has not stopped the progression of my recovery. We recently purchased our first home, so I never again have to question where I am going to sleep at night. However, the most amazing gift my recovery has given me is the ability to become a mother, in just 2 short months I will be bringing my first child into this world! What a blessing it is that my daughter will never have to see me under the influence of any mind-altering substance. When I first entered into recovery, had I been asked to come up with my best life, I would have sold myself short. I am living a life beyond my wildest dreams. This life is just one decision away from any person struggling with alcoholism or addiction. My name is Robin Parker, I am a Recovery Coach with the Regional Substance Navigation Program and Community Impact. I want each and every one of you to know you are loved, you are worth it, and you are not alone anymore. Please reach out if you need help or just someone to talk to. We are always here.

+ September 9th.

My name is Michael, I would like to thank Lisa Trusas and The Regional Substance Navigation Program, for giving me the opportunity to share my testimony with you. I grew up in East Boston in a loving home, raised by my grandparents. I did very well in school and loved to play sports. I suffered a knee injury, which ended my dreams of becoming a professional football player someday. I was introduced to OxyContin due to my knee injury at the age of 14. I took the pills as I was supposed to and didn’t abuse them, but my mother and her friends who were in active addiction always tried to buy them from me. I began to sell my pills, which led me into a fascination with everything that came with being a drug dealer. I thought I had so many friends, and I also thought I was somebody because I was selling drugs. My childhood friends smoked marijuana, so I saw an opportunity to make more money and also began to sell marijuana. At 16 years old I had decided to leave school because I was making a lot of money selling drugs, and I thought who needs an education when you are making $4,000 a week selling drugs. Boy was I wrong. Being involved in moving large amounts of drugs introduced me to a dark world that at 14 I was not ready for, or needed to be exposed to. I was addicted to the lifestyle of money, cars, jewelry, and random women. It all came to a halt when I was arrested for selling drugs and sentenced to 3 years in a Pennsylvania jail. At 18, I was subjected to prison life and it wasn’t a pretty scene. It scared me mentally, along with many other things I was a part of. I was released from jail and I wasn’t the same person. I was always angry, paranoid, and depressed because I was now a convicted felon who felt I had ruined my life and had no purpose and would always be judged for my past. It led me down a dark and lonely path of abusing heroin. I’ve overdosed 3 times, and the third time was a planned suicide attempt. I was so depressed, everyone gave up on me and I felt alone and didn’t want to live anymore. July 8th, 2015 I was found overdosed on a wall at Revere Beach by the Massachusetts State Police. The officer saved my life. I woke up in Mass General Hospital alone and angry that I didn’t die. There was a team of people at the hospital who had more of a drive to help me than I did for myself. I explained to them that I had no support, or family who cared to help me, and they stated, “We are here to help you Michael and we care.” I hadn’t heard those words in so long, that someone actually cared about me, that it brought me to tears. Those words sparked my determination to turn my life around. One week later I entered HighPoint Treatment Facility in Plymouth, Massachusetts, and began to work on my recovery. My insurance only allowed me a 30-day stay, but the facility cared so much for my well being that they allowed me to stay for 60 days until I found a suitable, healthy living arrangement. On June 14th, 2016 I was sitting with my caseworker going through a list of long-term treatment facilities and found a faith-based program called Teen Challenge in Brockton, Massachusetts. Nothing else ever worked for me so having a Christian grandmother I decided to try God and this faith-based program. On June 20th, 2016 I was accepted to the program of Teen Challenge at no cost. They weren’t worried about insurance, money or anything, aside from getting me to maintain my sobriety and build a relationship with Jesus Christ. I was very uncomfortable at first because God was involved and at the center of this program. For the first time, I experienced love that didn’t expect anything in return. I began to trust myself, trust God, and the people he placed in my life during this season. I was restored miraculously to sanity and got back my will to live again. Teen Challenge was a 15-month program. A very hard program, but it was the best thing that ever happened to me. I graduated from the program in January of 2018, stayed on as an intern, and then became a full-time staff member having the honor of serving thousands of people who were just like me. I began to use the love of Jesus and my testimony to give many people hope for a better life. I was with Teen Challenge until November of 2019 and have since moved to Ohio, got engaged, and have two beautiful daughters who now have their father back. Today I lead a healthy life, stay connected with the recovery community, and appreciate my life. Recovery isn’t easy, it’s actually one of the hardest things I’ve ever endured. But it is possible, and has made me stronger and gave me a purpose to live. Today I am grateful for my brothers and sisters in recovery, and God who saved and restored my life. None of this would have been possible without God. To all those who still struggle, pick your head up and keep fighting you are not alone, you are loved, and do have people who care for you even if you can’t see it or feel it.

+ September 8th.

My name is Becky and I'm an addict. I started drinking and drugging when I was around 13- maybe even younger. It did something for me that it did not do for my friends. I now know that what I was experiencing was the phenomenon of craving. I was obsessed with drinking and drugging. All I could think about was who am I going to do it with, how am I going to get it, where am I going to do it, and when am I going to do it next. My disease progressed to opiates. I was taking OxyContin pills daily in college. It was miraculous that I was able to graduate with Distinction, with a Bachelor's Degree in Biomedical Engineering and a Minor in Music. Looking back on it I don't know how I managed to function. Shortly after my 21st birthday, I was introduced to heroin. At the time I thought this was such a cost-effective solution, and wondered why I hadn't tried it sooner- even though this was a line I vowed never to cross. Out of college, I got my dream job, working as an Associate Project Manager on a particle accelerator used to treat cancer. I traveled a lot for work, which made it excessively difficult for me to use heroin. I would bring heroin on the plane with me, but no matter how much I brought I always ended up "dope sick." Eventually, I lost my job. It wasn't specifically for substance abuse but it was a result of me being restless, irritable and discontented because I was using. My disease progressed again, and I began to spiral. This time it progressed to IV drug use. I was unemployed in the summer of 2015. I tried to stop. I even tried everything they suggested on a website for quitting heroin- except going to treatment. Nothing worked. I couldn't even get 24 hours sober. Finally, in October 2015, I got a job working as an Engineer at a company that makes insulin pumps. I failed the drug test, but they let me work anyway. I could barely function. One morning before work I went to meet my dealer, but she couldn't meet me right away so I called out of work. Later in the day, I met her. I was so "dope sick." I ended up shooting up in the Walmart parking lot. The cops rolled up on me and I was arrested for possession of class A- heroin. I know now that this was the best thing to ever happen to me. I truly believe that if I hadn't been arrested, I would have died shortly thereafter- maybe even that weekend. At some point, I would have become physically sober but without a solution or program in my life, I would have used again and likely overdosed. After being arrested, I finally admitted to my family that I was addicted to heroin. They bailed me out and took me straight to the hospital. From there I was sectioned to a dual diagnosis facility. At that facility, I was introduced to a 12-step program that saved my life. I started taking suggestions. I did 200 meetings in 180 days. I got a sponsor and I started working the steps. After a year of being sober, my case was dismissed. My best friend died of an overdose in December 2016, and I decided to continue to stay sober even though I was no longer on probation. In 2018, at almost 3 years sober, my psychiatrist took me off of my low dose antipsychotic medication. The best meds are the ones that work and you don't even know they are working. I went into a manic episode that lasted a year. I lost my job, turned my house into a homeless shelter, and gave away my car- sober. I was section 12'd twice in sobriety. I was put on so many psychotropic medications that I lost my memory. I never thought I'd work again. After over 3 years sober, I relapsed. This time I started shooting cocaine. Somehow, miraculously, I got a job working at an international pharmaceutical company. I just barely passed the drug test. I stayed sober for 3.5 months and relapsed again. This time I did heroin (Fentanyl) and crack. I lost my license and one of my friends died. I ended up getting section 12'd again. I stayed sober another 4 months, got my license back, then I relapsed again on fentanyl and crack. This time I overdosed for the first time. I was scared to death. After overdosing, I called my parents to take me to rehab. Next, I called my friend and begged her to sponsor me. She said "yes" and "you're truly lucky to be alive and have a bed at a rehab during a global pandemic." She also said, "you never have to feel this way again." She was right about that- if you do the work and stay sober- you never have to feel the way I felt that day. Every day I pray to God to keep me away from a drink or drug. I pray for the obsession to be removed and I thank him at night. I've hit the ground running and have been doing meetings both on zoom and in-person. I've been reaching out to different women in my network and expanding my network. I try my best to help others on a daily basis even if it's something small like telling them where there is a meeting. I've been moving along in my step work and writing consistently. I want to get it this time because I know that if I don't I'm going to die. I hit 90 days on 8/17/2020. By the grace of God, I kept my job at the international pharmaceutical company. I even got hired permanently and promoted. My family wants me around today. I have a car and a license. I'm grateful. If there is any advice I can give someone it's stick and stay the first time if you can. Do not open Pandora's box because it is excessively difficult to come back and get long term recovery. That doesn't mean it isn't possible. There are many roads to recovery- for me, it's treating my outside issues, meetings and the 12-steps. Do whatever you need to do to save your life. When I first came in I had a really hard time with the higher power thing. I'll end with this: If I get to the end and find out there was no God/higher power, and it was all bologna....at least I'll have lived a better life because of it.

+ September 7th.

My name is Sarah and I am an alcoholic and an addict. The CDC and the Surgeon General have now classified this problem as a DISEASE. People who suffer from this disease are defenseless over the first drink or drug, no matter what amount of willpower they put forth against it, at this point we lose control of it. When I was at a meeting I once heard a woman say something that perfectly described it. “When I tried to control it I couldn't enjoy it, and when I tried to enjoy it I couldn’t control it.” I immediately identified with this statement. I am going to share my experience, strength, and hope with you. When I was younger I never really felt like I fit in or was accepted, I was completely uncomfortable in my own skin. I was always the person who was picked last in gym class and never got carnations on Valentine’s Day. When I was around 14 years old I had my first sip of alcohol, it was peppermint schnapps. I’ll never forget the feeling I had after that first sip, or the warmth I felt in my belly that spread through my whole body. The best part was my anxiety completely vanished, I finally felt comfortable in my own skin for the first time in my life, it was magic and it felt like I was finally home. This led to experimentation with any substance that I came across, each and every time I loved it and all I could think of was that I wanted more. This disease comes with a complete mental obsession, an illusion of control, a complete loss of willpower and leaves us defenseless. It’s an allergy we suffer from after the first taste. A year or so later OxyContin made its way into the picture. This was the best thing I could get my hands on because I could function somewhat normally in front of family, friends, and even at work. The problem was, that I had no idea about the physical addiction that came into play with the use of opioids. Soon enough, I could no longer afford to keep up with my addiction, so I switched to the only thing I promised myself I would never do, HEROIN. The physical detox from the painkillers was so horrible that I broke the promise I made to myself when I was younger because I was willing to do anything that would take away my withdrawal symptoms, which felt like pure hell. From there I dropped out of school, moved in with a friend, and tried to maintain not being sick and working and paying bills, I failed miserably. So I did the only thing that I thought would help, I joined the Army. Joining the Army was one of the best choices I have ever made for myself. This is where I learned the feeling of self-worth and pride and experienced the bliss of being a part of a team and the feeling of camaraderie. Most importantly I finally felt like I could actually be happy sober. I formed unbreakable bonds with other soldiers that would last a lifetime. They were no longer just strangers to me, they were my brothers and sisters in arms. I couldn’t run away from my disease though and it finally caught back up with me. After boot camp, I shipped off to Advanced Individual Training in Aberdeen, Maryland (Aberdeen Proving Grounds). I met another soldier there and fell in love, but I was a young, naive girl who hadn’t even begun to learn how to love herself, so I settled for less than I deserved. Our relationship was very unhealthy and extremely toxic. He was also suffering from the same disease, addiction. He was discharged, other than honorably, for drug-related problems that happened during our deployment training in Camp Shelby, Mississippi, and was sent home. I was diagnosed with a heart condition and used this as an excuse to be medically discharged (honorably) and sent back home. My chain of command was willing to keep me on deployment and begged me to stay and heed their advice because they saw how toxic our relationship was, but I didn’t listen and there it was, another broken dream I willingly gave up on. We had our son together on February 12, 2012. He was born at 1:58 am and we named him Christopher Robert Kipfer Jr. and nicknamed him CJ. He was now the center of my universe, my pride, my joy, my everything. I knew the very moment they placed him in my arms, that that was what true love was. Life is funny though, or maybe my mother was right and God knew I was strong because I was not prepared for what would be thrown at me 4 years later. During the 4 years that followed CJ’s birth, my son was my saving grace, he was my strength and hope during the abusive relationship that formed between his father and I. I was completely bashed mentally, emotionally, and physically. When I finally got sick of all the fighting and trauma, I finally worked up the courage to escape with our son. Unfortunately, after the trauma, I left the wrong way (legally speaking). My first and only priority as a mother was to get my son and me to a safe place. I took my son from the state of Washington where we were living with his father, back to Massachusetts to stay with my family, where I knew we would be safe. Everything backfired, my son’s father comes from money and decided to drag me through a horrible, lengthy custody battle. I was lawyerless, broke, and stuck going to court via telephone. I lost custody and this brought me to my knees, stole my hope, and eventually, I lost my will to live. So I drank and drugged to numb the pain and the hole that was left in my soul. Happiness and hope were now just a fairytale at this point. I no longer cared if I woke up in the morning, and when I did I woke up feeling the same way every day, hopeless. I tried geographical cures, controlling my drinking and drug use, limiting quantities, and switching the types of alcohol I consumed, but nothing ever worked out the way I had planned it to. I dragged my mother and family through the wringer. I brought them worry, hurt, and pain, and put them through hell. I was so lost in my sadness and feelings of self-pity, that when they begged me to seek treatment and ask for help I just ignored them. Nothing fazed me anymore, not DUI’s or being arrested, or even pissing myself while I slept. I was a walking disaster, a shadow of the soldier and mother that I once was. I was blind to just how selfish my actions truly were. My mother, my brothers and my step-father (who was basically my real father) turned their lives upside down for me on more than one occasion to try and support me through all the bullshit. They dealt with all my crap, holding my hand the whole way and never stopped loving me. I could never put into words the love I have for them now, and how it has multiplied a trillion times over now that I see things from a sober state of mind, and how truly grateful I am to have them by my side. They loved me when I couldn’t love myself, even when I didn't deserve it, and I just can't help but see the collateral beauty in all of this. I am blessed to have them in my life and lucky to call them MY family. I had gone through multiple detoxes and completed a residential treatment center at the Linda Fay Griffin House in Worcester. I was 6 months sober and being the stubborn person that I am, I didn't listen to my sponsor or any of the suggestions that the people with long amounts of time in sobriety had to say, and I stopped going to meetings. This led to my relapse right before the COVID-19 pandemic happened. I’m grateful that I relapsed though because it opened my eyes, and the same thing that brought me to my knees and spiraled my disease out of control was the same thing that brought me back from the darkness and into the light. This is the love that I have for my son CJ. On May 4, 2020, I was high, miserable, and outside on my friend’s porch and I had looked over the neighbors’ fence into their yard. The first thing I saw was a father picking up his toddler son over his head. I saw them as they both laughed simultaneously and the look of pure happiness when they both locked eyes with each other, the look of true happiness that I felt the very first time I held my son after he was born and we locked eyes. That was the moment I had my spiritual awakening, the moment that saved my life and gave me back my will to live. It hit me hard like a freight train, and I could barely breathe, I cried so hard because I had wished for so long to feel that happiness and love again. It also made me realize just how important time is, and that it is a precious gift that shouldn’t be taken for granted, or wasted. I believe that my higher power, who I believe is Jesus, wanted me to see and asked God to make sure I was on the porch at that very moment on that day. The next day, I found the courage to reach out and ask for help from my sober friends, the ones I had met through the programs of Alcoholics Anonymous and Narcotics Anonymous. They were there with open arms, willing to help me the whole way. My friend Robyn, who is a very special person to me, found me a bed at a detox called Spectrum in Westborough that day, and my sober friends drove me to detox. After I completed detox I decided it would be better for me to move to a woman’s sober house in Worcester. I've made some incredible bonds with the woman here at the sober house because they know just how powerful this disease is and what I'm going through. I have a sponsor and I'm actually heeding her advice now, I go to meetings, and I’m working on the 12 steps. This time I’m doing it the right way, I am being rigorously honest, open and raw. Every morning as soon as I wake up I get on my knees and ask my higher power to remove the obsession and the desire to drink and drug away, just for today. It’s actually working and the “todays” just keep adding up. This disease has brought me broken dreams, friends who had the most beautiful souls gone way too soon due to overdose, a little brother who is currently struggling with the after-effects and damage to his brain due to extreme drug use, and a biological father who is homeless and that I cannot find. This disease has brought me and my brother driving down the streets of Southern California looking for our biological father to try and bring him food and water, and when we couldn’t find him we were left to just worry and accept the fact that he will eventually die out there. This disease doesn't discriminate at all. We are some of the strongest, most empathetic people you will ever meet. If you're reading this and you’re struggling, I hope you finally let your walls down and reach out. I hope you don't forget that you deserve to be happy too, and you can if you're willing to do the work. You don’t have to be afraid to feel again, it's not all hurt and pain, it’s laughter, love, joy, and happiness too!! Someone once told me that you can’t experience true happiness if you’ve never gone through pain. Don’t ever forget that one small, tiny candle can light an entire room filled with darkness. I once was lost, but now I’m finally finding myself again. My name is Sarah and I am a grateful alcoholic and an addict in recovery, and I am happy.

+ September 6th

My name is Bill, and I am an alcoholic. I am currently 10 weeks sober for the first time in over 20 years. Like most alcoholics, I started drinking as a teenager. I soon realized it was something that I was really good at. My tolerance became infamous. I wore it like a badge of honor, not realizing it was a curse. I was really into sports and fitness, but a weekend warrior at the bar rooms. Over time, I spent less time in the gym, and more time at bars. My drinking cost me my marriage to a wonderful woman. Instead of smartening up, I wallowed in self-pity and drank more. I started having withdrawal seizures after benders. I still did not smarten up and ignored the warning signs. I had 2 seizures while driving, and continued to ignore the destruction I was causing all around me. My family and friends tried 2 interventions and I kept drinking. I refused to acknowledge that I was hurting anyone, but myself. I got a DUI and kept drinking. I was sectioned by my mother and spent 3 weeks in a rehabilitation facility and began drinking again, shortly after. I lied about it and hid bottles everywhere. I waited in the parking lot, for the liquor stores to open, with the shakes. I went to morning AA meetings shaking, spilling coffee on myself, then left the meetings and drove to the liquor store. I went to detox a couple more times and kept picking up again soon after. I lost jobs. I lost friends. Worst of all, I lost my self-worth and self-respect. I was miserable, caught in a cycle of benders and depression. Finally, this June I was on another 7-10 day bender and I said to myself, "I have to stop or I am going to die." I detoxed myself. It was a week from hell, knowing a half-pint would have made me feel "normal." I was shaking, sweating, and having night terrors. It was horrible. A week later I joined a gym. In 8 weeks at the gym, I have gained over 20 pounds back, regained my self-respect, and am focused on improving myself mentally and physically. I had reached complete hopelessness before this. I often wished I would pass out and not wake up. I have a completely opposite attitude now. I look forward to each day, each workout, and each improvement I can make in my life. I would have never gotten to this point without a 180-degree turn in my attitude. I also would not have made it this far without my family and friends, who stood by me in my worst and weakest moments. I have met some amazing, empathetic, and caring people along the way. Counselors and nurses, who did not know me from a hole in the wall, but saw something salvageable in me that I didn't even see. I am so thankful to have this opportunity to reclaim my life, and even try to give back to others like me. My advice is to look forward, not back. We cannot change the past, but our future is in our own hands. Love yourself and others will love you too. If I can do this, so can you!!!ber 5th. My name is Steve C, and I am in recovery. My sobriety date is 2-1-18. When I was growing up as a child I was raised in a bilingual household, my dad was American and my mom was Portuguese. When I talked to dad it was in English, and when I talked to mom it had to be in Portuguese, so she could understand me. By the time I got to school it was hard for me to read and write, and I still struggle with it today. By the age of 8 my parents got a divorce, so things got hard with mom taking care of three kids, and visits with dad on weekends. My first few years playing sports, which I loved, was paid for by my coaches. Sports were my first addictions. If it was football season I was playing football, all day every day, and the same for basketball, from sun up to sun down when it was in season. I didn't get into any trouble by the age of 10, but I started smoking and selling marijuana by the age of 13. I was a weekend warrior drinker at the age of 12, and my first arrests had me sent to Westborough detention for six months. I was thrown out of school in sixth grade for fighting with a teacher. I had to move to Maine for a year and still managed to get into trouble up there as well. When I came back to Massachusetts it took a few months to find a school that would take me. Project Coffee in Oxford, MA is where I ended up, and thank God because I was able to graduate. Every job I had I would end up stealing from, a couple I got caught at and would have to pay back, well not me but my parents. At the age of 19, I got one of my girlfriends pregnant, by 20 I was the father of a daughter. I chose to smoke and sell marijuana instead of taking care of my child, then very quickly got another woman pregnant with my second daughter. I was living at home with my mom and working construction, because that's the only people that would hire me. After paying child support, and taking care of my newest child, I would only have $20 dollars left to my name, and I would buy scratch tickets. One day my boss asked to go to the casino, so we went and I ended up winning $135 dollars. The next morning I brought my girlfriend at that time to work and she said, “don't spend your money on scratch tickets.” So when I dropped her off I went to a store that had scratch tickets and sports betting right in downtown Milford, I bought $30 in scratch tickets and won a million dollars on a ticket. I went to her work to tell her and she slapped me in the face. A little after I cashed the ticket one night, I was drinking and got arrested again for starting a barroom brawl and assaulting a police officer in jail that night. I said I wouldn’t drink anymore and I stopped drinking for a while, but as an addict I moved on to gambling, scratch tickets and sports betting. I would always brag about how much I won, never about how much I lost. One weekend I won $80,000 the next I lost $160,000. I would walk into a casino with $10,000 and lose it in less than an hour. So two years later I was broke again, and at the age of 27 I was diagnosed with cancer. This is where my addiction took off because I had the reason of cancer. At first I sold the pills, I would get 280 perc 30 for a couple of years. Then one day I tried them, and fell in love with them. I was a single father of three kids by this time, thinking life was great. Then one day one of my kid's mothers saw me sell pills with the kids in my truck, so she kept the kids from me. As of today I haven't seen them in over 10 years, but that didn't stop me, my addiction got worse. Five different detoxes, a halfway house and a sober house. I switched fellowships and use methods, and still couldn't get this recovery thing. I managed to put some time together throughout all of this, but it wasn’t until 2012 that I had some sobriety and went back to college and graduated Culinary Arts. But with that came a new job as a cook, so I no longer went to meetings and wasn't doing the work at all with recovery. My mother was going to have a procedure and that day we lost her, and because I wasn't working the program I picked back up, and at this point I’d never tried heroin. I didn't like needles so I started sniffing it. I went to another detox and halfway house, and then moved into a sober house, which is where I learned how to inject myself. The type of addict I was, I had to sell it to support my habit, and two years later I would be raided by the SWAT team on 1-6-18. I was released from court on that Tuesday on a PR, I had a choice to go home with family and get help, or go back to the same thing I was doing even though they just took everything from me. So the good addict I was, I chose to walk home and do a break and entering to come up with the money. I stole a purse and tried to buy 10 cartons of cigarettes, and two weeks later I was picked up on a warrant, so that's where this journey starts. When I went to court the next day I took some zany with me, so I could sneak them into the jail. But I'm an addict, so in holding I ate them all. I don't remember the ride, booking, waking up four days later in what I thought was a detox, and asking if I could sign out. I was in the infirmary so they laughed at me and handed me a bag of all my paperwork ripped up. So when I went in I was on 125 mg of methadone, all the benzos I could find and at least 3g of fentanyl, so it took a while for me to feel normal. Once I felt better I wasn't trying to change the things that put me in there, I was planning on getting better connections and getting back at the people who set me up. About six months in I was going to court and I got down on my knees and prayed for the first time and asked it to guide me through this process, and I said thank you. I never listened to country music before and David Lee Murphy and Kenny Chesney’s Everything's Gonna Be Alright was playing on the radio, and since that day I listen to country music. But the next day I went to court and took a deal, and as I walked downstairs I said to the judge, “Thanks for saving my life.” I went back to the Worcester house to I block and started to make changes in my behavior, waking up, getting dressed, brushing my teeth - I only have seven now, making my bed, telling myself that I am worth something, and I got out two days before Christmas. I went to a meeting the next day and saw a friend of 30 years there. We went to meetings every day, sometimes three a day, and every meeting I went to I asked people for their phone numbers and I would text everyone, 24 brothers or 24 sisters every day. I joined groups, like seven of them, got jobs in those groups, went on commitments, joined committees and got a sponsor. By my one year celebration of recovery, I started going through the book the way it's laid out, not the Steve way or the off the wall way, and my life is so much better. Now today I choose not to pick up drugs or gambling. I chase recovery like I chased drugs, and I also had a son when I was out there, and I had to prove DNA when I got out and did that. I was able to see him through DCF, and today I can see him whenever without DCF. I was able to be there for my oldest daughter to graduate high school and send her off to college. I am employed today, I just recently got my license reinstated with a car on the road registered and insured in my name. These are things I took for granted before, today I treat them like privileges because if I pick up I lose it all. I work a 24-hour program to the best of my ability, and I'm not perfect at it. Sometimes I have to work harder than others, the only thing I've done right is not pick up that first one. 24 brother's & sister's, together we do recover daily, I believe in you and if no one told you today I love you and you are worth it. P.S. I hope to see you in the halls

+ September 5th.

My name is Steve C, and I am in recovery. My sobriety date is 2-1-18. When I was growing up as a child I was raised in a bilingual household, my dad was American and my mom was Portuguese. When I talked to dad it was in English, and when I talked to mom it had to be in Portuguese, so she could understand me. By the time I got to school it was hard for me to read and write, and I still struggle with it today. By the age of 8 my parents got a divorce, so things got hard with mom taking care of three kids, and visits with dad on weekends. My first few years playing sports, which I loved, was paid for by my coaches. Sports were my first addictions. If it was football season I was playing football, all day every day, and the same for basketball, from sun up to sun down when it was in season. I didn't get into any trouble by the age of 10, but I started smoking and selling marijuana by the age of 13. I was a weekend warrior drinker at the age of 12, and my first arrests had me sent to Westborough detention for six months. I was thrown out of school in sixth grade for fighting with a teacher. I had to move to Maine for a year and still managed to get into trouble up there as well. When I came back to Massachusetts it took a few months to find a school that would take me. Project Coffee in Oxford, MA is where I ended up, and thank God because I was able to graduate. Every job I had I would end up stealing from, a couple I got caught at and would have to pay back, well not me but my parents. At the age of 19, I got one of my girlfriends pregnant, by 20 I was the father of a daughter. I chose to smoke and sell marijuana instead of taking care of my child, then very quickly got another woman pregnant with my second daughter. I was living at home with my mom and working construction, because that's the only people that would hire me. After paying child support, and taking care of my newest child, I would only have $20 dollars left to my name, and I would buy scratch tickets. One day my boss asked to go to the casino, so we went and I ended up winning $135 dollars. The next morning I brought my girlfriend at that time to work and she said, “don't spend your money on scratch tickets.” So when I dropped her off I went to a store that had scratch tickets and sports betting right in downtown Milford, I bought $30 in scratch tickets and won a million dollars on a ticket. I went to her work to tell her and she slapped me in the face. A little after I cashed the ticket one night, I was drinking and got arrested again for starting a barroom brawl and assaulting a police officer in jail that night. I said I wouldn’t drink anymore and I stopped drinking for a while, but as an addict I moved on to gambling, scratch tickets and sports betting. I would always brag about how much I won, never about how much I lost. One weekend I won $80,000 the next I lost $160,000. I would walk into a casino with $10,000 and lose it in less than an hour. So two years later I was broke again, and at the age of 27 I was diagnosed with cancer. This is where my addiction took off because I had the reason of cancer. At first I sold the pills, I would get 280 perc 30 for a couple of years. Then one day I tried them, and fell in love with them. I was a single father of three kids by this time, thinking life was great. Then one day one of my kid's mothers saw me sell pills with the kids in my truck, so she kept the kids from me. As of today I haven't seen them in over 10 years, but that didn't stop me, my addiction got worse. Five different detoxes, a halfway house and a sober house. I switched fellowships and use methods, and still couldn't get this recovery thing. I managed to put some time together throughout all of this, but it wasn’t until 2012 that I had some sobriety and went back to college and graduated Culinary Arts. But with that came a new job as a cook, so I no longer went to meetings and wasn't doing the work at all with recovery. My mother was going to have a procedure and that day we lost her, and because I wasn't working the program I picked back up, and at this point I’d never tried heroin. I didn't like needles so I started sniffing it. I went to another detox and halfway house, and then moved into a sober house, which is where I learned how to inject myself. The type of addict I was, I had to sell it to support my habit, and two years later I would be raided by the SWAT team on 1-6-18. I was released from court on that Tuesday on a PR, I had a choice to go home with family and get help, or go back to the same thing I was doing even though they just took everything from me. So the good addict I was, I chose to walk home and do a break and entering to come up with the money. I stole a purse and tried to buy 10 cartons of cigarettes, and two weeks later I was picked up on a warrant, so that's where this journey starts. When I went to court the next day I took some zany with me, so I could sneak them into the jail. But I'm an addict, so in holding I ate them all. I don't remember the ride, booking, waking up four days later in what I thought was a detox, and asking if I could sign out. I was in the infirmary so they laughed at me and handed me a bag of all my paperwork ripped up. So when I went in I was on 125 mg of methadone, all the benzos I could find and at least 3g of fentanyl, so it took a while for me to feel normal. Once I felt better I wasn't trying to change the things that put me in there, I was planning on getting better connections and getting back at the people who set me up. About six months in I was going to court and I got down on my knees and prayed for the first time and asked it to guide me through this process, and I said thank you. I never listened to country music before and David Lee Murphy and Kenny Chesney’s Everything's Gonna Be Alright was playing on the radio, and since that day I listen to country music. But the next day I went to court and took a deal, and as I walked downstairs I said to the judge, “Thanks for saving my life.” I went back to the Worcester house to I block and started to make changes in my behavior, waking up, getting dressed, brushing my teeth - I only have seven now, making my bed, telling myself that I am worth something, and I got out two days before Christmas. I went to a meeting the next day and saw a friend of 30 years there. We went to meetings every day, sometimes three a day, and every meeting I went to I asked people for their phone numbers and I would text everyone, 24 brothers or 24 sisters every day. I joined groups, like seven of them, got jobs in those groups, went on commitments, joined committees and got a sponsor. By my one year celebration of recovery, I started going through the book the way it's laid out, not the Steve way or the off the wall way, and my life is so much better. Now today I choose not to pick up drugs or gambling. I chase recovery like I chased drugs, and I also had a son when I was out there, and I had to prove DNA when I got out and did that. I was able to see him through DCF, and today I can see him whenever without DCF. I was able to be there for my oldest daughter to graduate high school and send her off to college. I am employed today, I just recently got my license reinstated with a car on the road registered and insured in my name. These are things I took for granted before, today I treat them like privileges because if I pick up I lose it all. I work a 24-hour program to the best of my ability, and I'm not perfect at it. Sometimes I have to work harder than others, the only thing I've done right is not pick up that first one. 24 brother's & sister's, together we do recover daily, I believe in you and if no one told you today I love you and you are worth it.

+ September 4th.

My name is Matthew Gear, and I’m a man in long term recovery. What that means is that I haven’t found it necessary to use any drugs or alcohol in almost 3 years. Recovery has taken my family and me out of this dark, lonely lifestyle. Recovery has given me life, a life that I just didn’t think was possible the way I was living. All the things I dreamed of doing and being as a young kid are all possible today. I’ve come from a broken, dark place in life very close to death, to a father, husband, son, brother, uncle and a valuable human being in the Whitinsville community where I grew up. The day I made the decision to allow recovery to enter my life, was the day my family and I started getting better. At this point in life, I still wasn’t ready to fully stop using, but I wanted things to change. I started hearing people say “opposite of addiction is NOT sobriety, its connection,” and today I understand that. Once I was able to connect with other human beings and their families, who could relate to my feelings, is when things started to change, like my behaviors and my attitude towards life. In time, this has allowed my family and me to build a relationship based on communication and honesty. I will tell you though I’m far from perfect and never will be. I look to do a little better every day. Today I try to live a life of service. What that means to me is I don’t regret my past, but use it to help others. I try to be an active member of society and lead by example for our future. I try to be a voice for us human beings in recovery, and for the ones who don’t have that courage just yet. Recovery is real and our voices need to be heard, we are not bad people just a little sick, and sick people get better. Homelessness and drug use do NOT define me, today I am Matthew Gear, a man in recovery!### + September 3rd. My journey began long before I realized it. I grew up a child of divorced, alcoholic parents. They divorced when I was 3, one stayed drinking, one quit. I stayed living with my mother, who was the one still drinking, and even at the age of 3 we did not get along. I got along with my dad until he remarried when I was 10, and then it all changed. I grew up being the black sheep of the family. Once I hit high school I met friends who had similar upbringings as I did, they were the "cool kids" I wanted to fit in with, I wanted to feel that belonging. They smoked and drank, I smoked and drank. I quickly realized drinking made me come out of my shell, it made me feel alive, it made me forget about the hell at home, it gave me that escape I always wanted. Instantly I was hooked. At the age of 14, I began smoking weed every day and drinking every weekend. It didn't take long before cocaine was introduced, and by age 15 it was a weekly thing. I tried every drug I was introduced to, but always knew to stay away from heroin. It went on like that for years, I was a weekend warrior, moving from one bad relationship to the next. I had my first child at 19. It was an abusive, drug and alcohol-fueled relationship that only lasted until my son was 4 months old. Fast forward to the age of 21 when I gave birth to my second child. In the hospital, they gave me what I thought at the time was Motrin, turns out it was Percocet. I was in love. I was always against pills, but suddenly I realized why everyone liked them. Still, I stayed a weekend warrior for another five years. I was bartending and waitressing and my hours were all crazy. I worked two jobs, one at a bar and one at a breakfast place, I couldn't keep up. I found with percs it gave me the boost I needed. I was using more and more until it became an everyday thing and eventually graduated to heroin. I still considered myself a good mom because I was there, except I wasn't. I was locked in my room getting high for a majority of the time. I ended up overdosing on cocaine and losing custody of my 2 children, ages 7 and 10. I lost my whole world, I didn't know how to cope. It was the worst pain I had ever felt in my life. A pain I wish on no one. I just wanted it to go away, I couldn't take feeling that way. I used any and every drug I could get my hands on to make that feeling disappear. I ran the streets like that for 2 years, in and out of detoxes, jail and numerous overdoses. I still thought I had it together, it was the world that had a problem, not me. I was a broken, homeless, mess. I became pregnant with my 3rd child while in active addiction. I tried getting clean, went to a couple of detoxes while pregnant, and still couldn’t get it. I couldn't face the reality of it. I still tried to hide, DCF removed him right from the hospital room. He was born in August and I was sectioned in October. I came out and still used except no one knew it at the time. I overdosed for my 7th time. While in the hospital the officer said to me "I'm sick of finding you on the floor," I said, "I'm sick of being found on the floor." That was a turning point for me, I had had enough. I stopped using drugs but thought I could still drink. I started going to AA, not because I wanted to stop drinking but because I wanted to change my thinking, and it worked. Even though I was still drinking I was also listening to what they had to say. On March 22nd, 2018 my best friend passed away from a heroin overdose. I was devastated. That was the last thing I was letting heroin take from me. It's crazy because my journey with heroin started and ended with him. I believe he gave me the strength to push through. I reached out to my therapist who set me up with an amazing woman who became my sponsor. She had one rule and that was to call her every day no matter what, and I did. I learned to talk through my feelings instead of trying to drown or ignore them. I went to as many meetings as I could get to, sometimes 2-3 a day. I walked to all that were within walking distance. I had to chase recovery the same way I chased drugs, and that was all day every day, so that is exactly what I did. It was time for me to fight for me. I realized I was worth it. DCF was trying to put my youngest up for adoption and I was not going to let that happen. I did IOP's, counseling, meetings, worked with my sponsor, and stayed very close to other women from the fellowship that had long term recovery. I fought DCF for 2 years to get my son back, and I did. I had a fourth and final child in recovery. My youngest two will never have to see me like that, and my older two got to witness my comeback. I am so blessed to say that I have custody of all 4 of my children and we all live under the same roof. I never knew my life could be like this. Today I have an inner contentment I never knew existed. When life gets stressful I take a step back and thank God I have a life to live, too many of us don't make it out. For me gratitude and self-love are key. I am so grateful for the many blessings I've been given, and see today that I am worth it and deserving. We all are.

+ September 3rd.

My journey began long before I realized it. I grew up a child of divorced, alcoholic parents. They divorced when I was 3, one stayed drinking, one quit. I stayed living with my mother, who was the one still drinking, and even at the age of 3 we did not get along. I got along with my dad until he remarried when I was 10, and then it all changed. I grew up being the black sheep of the family. Once I hit high school I met friends who had similar upbringings as I did, they were the "cool kids" I wanted to fit in with, I wanted to feel that belonging. They smoked and drank, I smoked and drank. I quickly realized drinking made me come out of my shell, it made me feel alive, it made me forget about the hell at home, it gave me that escape I always wanted. Instantly I was hooked. At the age of 14, I began smoking weed every day and drinking every weekend. It didn't take long before cocaine was introduced, and by age 15 it was a weekly thing. I tried every drug I was introduced to, but always knew to stay away from heroin. It went on like that for years, I was a weekend warrior, moving from one bad relationship to the next. I had my first child at 19. It was an abusive, drug and alcohol-fueled relationship that only lasted until my son was 4 months old. Fast forward to the age of 21 when I gave birth to my second child. In the hospital, they gave me what I thought at the time was Motrin, turns out it was Percocet. I was in love. I was always against pills, but suddenly I realized why everyone liked them. Still, I stayed a weekend warrior for another five years. I was bartending and waitressing and my hours were all crazy. I worked two jobs, one at a bar and one at a breakfast place, I couldn't keep up. I found with percs it gave me the boost I needed. I was using more and more until it became an everyday thing and eventually graduated to heroin. I still considered myself a good mom because I was there, except I wasn't. I was locked in my room getting high for a majority of the time. I ended up overdosing on cocaine and losing custody of my 2 children, ages 7 and 10. I lost my whole world, I didn't know how to cope. It was the worst pain I had ever felt in my life. A pain I wish on no one. I just wanted it to go away, I couldn't take feeling that way. I used any and every drug I could get my hands on to make that feeling disappear. I ran the streets like that for 2 years, in and out of detoxes, jail and numerous overdoses. I still thought I had it together, it was the world that had a problem, not me. I was a broken, homeless, mess. I became pregnant with my 3rd child while in active addiction. I tried getting clean, went to a couple of detoxes while pregnant, and still couldn’t get it. I couldn't face the reality of it. I still tried to hide, DCF removed him right from the hospital room. He was born in August and I was sectioned in October. I came out and still used except no one knew it at the time. I overdosed for my 7th time. While in the hospital the officer said to me "I'm sick of finding you on the floor," I said, "I'm sick of being found on the floor." That was a turning point for me, I had had enough. I stopped using drugs but thought I could still drink. I started going to AA, not because I wanted to stop drinking but because I wanted to change my thinking, and it worked. Even though I was still drinking I was also listening to what they had to say. On March 22nd, 2018 my best friend passed away from a heroin overdose. I was devastated. That was the last thing I was letting heroin take from me. It's crazy because my journey with heroin started and ended with him. I believe he gave me the strength to push through. I reached out to my therapist who set me up with an amazing woman who became my sponsor. She had one rule and that was to call her every day no matter what, and I did. I learned to talk through my feelings instead of trying to drown or ignore them. I went to as many meetings as I could get to, sometimes 2-3 a day. I walked to all that were within walking distance. I had to chase recovery the same way I chased drugs, and that was all day every day, so that is exactly what I did. It was time for me to fight for me. I realized I was worth it. DCF was trying to put my youngest up for adoption and I was not going to let that happen. I did IOP's, counseling, meetings, worked with my sponsor, and stayed very close to other women from the fellowship that had long term recovery. I fought DCF for 2 years to get my son back, and I did. I had a fourth and final child in recovery. My youngest two will never have to see me like that, and my older two got to witness my comeback. I am so blessed to say that I have custody of all 4 of my children and we all live under the same roof. I never knew my life could be like this. Today I have an inner contentment I never knew existed. When life gets stressful I take a step back and thank God I have a life to live, too many of us don't make it out. For me gratitude and self-love are key. I am so grateful for the many blessings I've been given, and see today that I am worth it and deserving. We all are

+ September 2nd.

My name is Tiffany and I’m an addict. I grew up in Dorchester and came from a poor family, bouncing from shelter to shelter with my mom and siblings. As a young child I was always filled with anxiety, feeling weird and thinking bad things were going to happen. In my teens I started drinking and smoking weed with friends to feel anything other than myself, and that quickly escalated into ecstasy on an every weekend basis. I was having trouble in school, so I dropped out in 9th grade. I was constantly fighting with my mother, because she was physically abusive to me, and I ended up getting locked up as a teen and went to two group homes and 13 foster homes. My last foster home was how I got to Milford, this is also where I did my first line of cocaine which continued for years. I had my first child at 18, and after having my daughter I continued to party and not be a responsible parent, which resulted in having a second child at 22. I still continued to abuse drugs and booze, and when I was 26 I got hit by an 18 wheeler on 495, and from this I was prescribed oc 40s. From there I graduated quickly to heroin, many years of iv drug use and destroying my life. At 29 I had another child and still continued using drugs and not being there mentally for my children. I tried different detoxes and started NA - from this point I kept going to meetings but could not stay clean after years of getting arrested and all sorts of destruction, jails, sections and being on the run. I went to Norcap in Foxboro in June 2017 and when I got out did Vivitrol, got a sponsor, started going to 3 meetings a day and got connected with people from the program. I haven’t touched heroin since June 12, 2017. Today I still attend meetings, I help others and I have all of my children in my life - and they're all doing wonderful. I am going to school, I have my own car, my bills are paid and I haven’t even got a speeding ticket in over 3 years. I have peace of mind, and I am available for my children and others that need me. I no longer have to live as a prisoner to heroin. I do this program one day at a time and it’s been working, so I will continue to do what I’ve been doing.

+ September 1st.

I grew up in the town of Framingham and was one of four boys. My dad was an alcoholic and I knew growing up that I didn't want to be him. My first drink was at the age of 12 (the drinking age in Framingham then). I loved the feeling booze gave me...someone that I was not. It gave me courage and strength I couldn't find anywhere else. I used to cry at the kitchen table begging my dad to stop, and wondering why he couldn't...and why not for me? Little did I know that I would become just like him...but not like him in so many ways. He never raised his hand to us...just left when he drank and disappeared. My drinking progressed to every weekend for now. I got married to a local Framingham girl. She knew full well that the disease was in my genes. The weekends started to begin on Thursdays, and now I was drinking every day. I would NEVER get addicted....yeah, sure. My drinking got in the way of being a parent (3 daughters) and also being a husband. I was only drinking beer then because "drunks don't drink just beer." In 1998 I had surgery on my shoulder, and noticed that beer wasn't helping...so I tried vodka, and that really helped. A neighbor told me it didn't smell with orange juice. I was now dependent on all types of booze. I started losing jobs once a year until my wife had enough...and showed me the door. I tried ALL the ways to get sober...I was now a full-blown alcoholic. I would NEVER become like my dad. I finally moved out and now was on my own in 2001. I was going to show her I could do this...I was now drinking every day and night only getting a breather while sleeping. My wife decided to buy me out of the house, concerned I was going to kill someone driving drunk and take the house. Once she gave me the money I did the brilliant thing and bought a house in Woonsocket, RI in 2004. By 2006 I was losing my house to foreclosure and forced to move out...but I didn't. I would climb in the windows at night so I had a place to sleep. They repossessed my car so I no longer had transportation. But, I wasn't going to be like my father. In the summer of 2006, I was sleeping on a park bench in Woonsocket with just the clothes on my back...begging for money and buying vodka any chance I could. This beautiful blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy from Framingham was homeless and a raging alcoholic, sleeping wherever he had cover. I was now waking up to drink...24/7. Through a miracle, this man I met in the park from Woonsocket took me to an AA meeting...and I put a day or two together. He contacted the bank and they agreed to have me stay back in the house if I went to rehab. I checked myself into a facility in North Kingstown, RI on August 28, 2006. My life changed forever that day. I was sober for 30..60...90 days and living the recovery life. 90 meetings in 90 days, walking because I had no vehicle. I bumped into a friend that I had worked for in 2000, and he asked me to come work at his company....I've now been there for over 13 years. I've gone through some pain in recovery...losing my mom to cancer in 2020, who was practicing Alanon for 60 years...crazy. Losing my middle child to the state of Massachusetts only to get her back. Losing my grandchild to the state of Rhode Island, only to get her back. It’s been one of the most incredible journeys ever in my life. This is just a snapshot of my story...the progression of the disease is real. Today I live in Mendon, in a beautiful home my wife and I purchased. I now have 4 grandchildren that have never seen me drink. I'm very active with my AA group in Mendon and often go on speaking commitments sharing my story of Experience...Strength and Hope! We often say, “I have a life second to none!” Isn't that the truth! ALL the AA promises have come true for me. Being a recovering alcoholic is the toughest thing I've ever done in my life, but it’s also the most gratifying thing I've ever done in my life! John P. (Short Pants)