I have always considered myself to be a very private person. For many years, especially within my profession, I projected to the world only what I wanted the world to see. I hid my past behind so many layers that I had almost convinced myself that I was the person I was trying so hard to be. It is quite the humbling experience to have your secrets publicly exposed. 

Today, I cannot hide. My name, and my sad, sick story has graced the front pages of my local newspaper. When I was convicted of my drug charges, ten months after the fact, several local radio stations also shared the news of my sentencing. I gave up my anonymity the day I was busted, and for a long time I struggled with that. Oddly enough, today, with nearly a year of sobriety under my belt, I relish in the fact that I no longer have to pretend I am someone that I am not. It’s all out in the open now.

I have done many things that compound my shame. I am embarrassed of the way I chose to steer my life and that of my family, but I refuse to hang my head because of the judgements of others. I have made my choices and now I am choosing a better path. I keep my head up and my eyes on the horizon, because I believe that the terrible choices I have made do not define me, but how I choose to pick myself back up and move forward is how I should really be defined. 

Thanks for reading,



…Takes it’s Toll

These days I spend most of my mornings in an outpatient treatment facility. When I first returned home after a lengthy (8 month) stay in residential treatment followed by a halfway house, I was agrivated to learn how many hours I would have to commit to outpatient. I felt like I had paid my dues, and now I wanted to live my life on my own terns. 

Not many days into my first week of outpatient, I realized how much work I still had to do. Getting better takes an ungodly amount of time and commitment. These days I enjoy participating in my morning groups. Not only am I able to relate to the struggle of other addicts, but these people teach me so much about life. I hear their stories, and however different they may seem, we are really not all that different. 
A topic we frequently discuss is the toll our addiction takes on our families. I listen to stories that are difficult to hear. About children, both young and adult, that have grown up in the midst of drug addiction. About mothers and fathers that have continually put their hearts and souls into their drug addicted children, only to be let down again and again. Often times our families reach their breaking point, and for their own health and wellbeing, have to distance themselves. Sometimes for good. 

We as addicts have a reputation for breaking our promises. Sometimes despite our best efforts, we succomb to our addiction many times over. I am lucky! I was able to remain sober for eleven years. I got sober shortly before I became pregnant with my first son and managed to remain sober until Halloween of 2015. My children, although no doubt affected by my chemical use, only had to live one year of their lives in such turmoil. I am grateful that they have not been subjected to years of broken promises. The pressure is on… I have heard the heartbreaking stories of other addicts. I am well aware of the places active addiction will take me. Now is the time to make things right for the long haul. 


For some of us, admitting that we are powerless when it comes to our addictions is not an easy thing to do. I, on other hand, did not struggle with this concept. In fact, admitting I was powerless allowed me to completely immerse myself, to give in to my primal urges.

I was fifteen the first time I experienced meth. All it took was a few puffs and I knew that I found what I had been searching for. It wasn’t  the thrill that captured my interest, nor the people around me. For the first time in my life I felt at the top of my game. My confidence sky-rocketed. My ego inflated. I believed that my mind could do anything. That my intelligence could not be the rivaled. 

…And then inevitably, my world would come crashing down… Beause I am and will always be powerless when it comes to this sickness.
Thank you for reading.


Climbing Out of Chaos: An Introduction.

I am a thirty-something mother of three bright and beatiful children. I am the wife of an amazingly patient and forgiving man. I come from a stable home, raised by loving parents who have been a constant source of support my entire life. I also hold a bachelor’s degree and not so long ago (it feels like forever) I enjoyed working in my field. However, that was then, and this is now. I should probably mention, that I am also a drug addict. Less than a year ago I was a daily intravenous user of both heroin and methamphetamine.


I am A.  This is my story.

For a very long time I have played around with the idea of writing a personal blog. But where does one start? And who is going to want to read about the chaos that is my life? Despite my reservstions, I have decided to give this a go.

I hope you will tune in next time. I have some serious brainstorming to do. Thank you for reading.