Julie's Recovery Journey....
Hi, my name is Julie and this is my life journey. I am not here to glorify the use of any substance, but you have to hear about the hell to understand the heaven. I am only providing you an overview of my story because to go in depth is what therapy is for.
I was born here in Pennsylvania in 1976, I was raised in a prominent family where your actions represented them. I was the product of the first divorce in our family. They felt the need to take that shame of divorce out on me. The unwanted child, the mistake. As we all know bad attention is still attention. This was the beginning of a very long road. When I was 14 (1990), I started drinking and hanging out with kids just like me - those that were not accepted by their families and society. I think it was the first time in my life I felt accepted.
In 1991, my mother and I moved to Maine. I got pregnant with my daughter, Sara. I was so excited to finally have a family that was my own. She was born sleeping, March 28, 1992, and I was lost in my sorrow. The doctors prescribed me Percocet for the pain of giving birth, but also to help with the depression. I fell in love with the numbness. When you can’t feel anything, you can’t feel loss. Soon after it was a never-ending party, and I was happy to be lost in the insanity of it all. I met a man that decided he was going to own me. He assaulted me sexually, physically, and most of all mentally, but I didn’t care as long as I had drugs. I escaped his grasp for a brief time until he found me, and then he put me in ICU for a week. This of course increased the painkillers and the not wanting to feel or deal anymore.Looking back on it now, I am surprised I am here writing this for you to read as I know I shouldn’t be.
Soon after I was released from ICU, I met a man that had a son without a mother, and I was a mother without a child. This man was a recovering addict from heroin, so he knew the hell I was about to face. He helped me detox off the pain killers, and we took off for Florida to start our lives. It was there I found the excitement of dealing weed and being a mom. I was 16 years old and thought I knew it all. I was hanging out at the bars and parties all the time, but in my mind I was the perfect spouse, friend, and mom. We eventually started having kids of our own. Our first son came October 1994, and I was so happy. Just after the new year in 1995 the drug task force kicked our door in first thing in the morning. That was the first of many jail stays for me. I was 18 years old and terrified. I was still nursing my son, and they refused to release me. Those moms that are reading this can relate to how much you suffer as your milk starts to dry up.
After sitting in the county prison in Florida for 3 weeks, I was finally released on bail. In my mind, I was done. No more weed no more dealing straight and narrow only for me. This lasted until September that year when the man got out of prison. He came home with weed from jail and I thought only you at the time. We were off to the races in our addiction again. We moved to Pennsylvania eventually to raise our family and have a new start. Well, a new start doesn’t happen if you bring along your old behaviors. We did okay for many years, but weed was still an issue for us. Most of all the lifestyle of dealing was an issue. Now I know what you are thinking weeds not a big deal ,and I didn’t think so at the time either. Now I see [that] I was smoking it so much I had to do the mental detox off it eventually. During that [time] I was angry, irritated, and just mean.
Tragedy struck our family in 2000, we had gotten married that year, and we had 4 kids together at the time [plus] my bonus son. That October, the kids and I were in a car accident. I remember waking up to my kids crying and my first concern was where did the joint go that was on the dash. Two of the kids were life-flighted to Geisinger. That was the downfall of our marriage and our family. Depression took over for me and addiction for him. The kids survived but not without struggles.
In 2002, the start of the end for us and the beginning of my final run as a full blown addict. Hello, Cocaine! January 2002, I was just recovering from having my tubes done after we had our last child. I woke up to him cooking crack in the kitchen, and I was at the end of my rope emotionally so out went my F##K’s. Many of you can certainly relate to this feeling. Our marriage ended the following year, and I was not done with my run. So, drug dealing spouse again it was only he was a coke dealer. We did okay maintaining appearances for many years. Thinking we were functional addicts. We worked and attended kid’s events. We took care of what we could until we couldn’t. I realized I was ditching my kids with my oldest to do drug runs and skipping out on work tasks that needed done. I was avoiding work calls and kids sporting events, because I was high. We were on the verge of losing our home, the lights had been shut off multiple times, and we had no heat. I was cheating my kids out of the mother they needed.
In 2009, enter the wonderful Williamsport Drug Task force, this is not sarcastic by the way they actually saved my life. See the week before they swarmed me during a drug sale, I was in my car it was July and in the 90’s that day, and I got the shakes knowing I was going to score. I remember that day so much because it was the first day, I said “girl you got a problem” … I don’t think anything really could have stopped me from my high. When they took me into custody, it was the start of the beginning. I say start, because I was able to begin to see how unmanageable my life really was. It was like the blinders I put up … had finally come down.
Now you know addiction does not let you go that easily. I slipped multiple times over the next year while I was fighting my case. [On] June 6, 2010, my friend stopped over, because it was his birthday, and he did not want to use alone. When he went to leave, I handed him my box, gave him a hug, and said I’m done. He looked at me like I was crazy, but I said that’s it I am done using. I was to report to serve a 3-month jail term, and I was fighting everyone to keep my 5 kids together and out of the system. I knew I was done because they had nobody other than me in their lives. They did not ask to be here, and I was making their lives hell by using.
So, the beginning of my recovery was about them not me. I reported to jail to serve my time and attended my first NA meeting. I cried the entire time I was there because I felt free. I worked my programs honestly and opened myself up to possibility. When I came home from jail, I felt renewed for the first few days. A girl I served time and previously used with had come home a few days after me. By then I was stressed out trying to figure out recovery and family. She asked me if I had been to a meeting yet, and I said no, so we walked 3 miles to the nearest NA meeting. That night a woman was celebrating 27 years of recovery. She shared her story, and again I found myself crying. I said to my friend (and I mean friend because it takes a lot for someone you used with to attend a meeting with you) if I cry at every meeting I don’t want to go anymore. She looked at me and reminded me you have to get through the pain to find the peace. I made that meeting my home group after a few weeks. I enrolled myself in counseling and even did groups although I went kicking and screaming in the beginning. I had lost my license, because of my addiction, and I was determined to do this new life the right way, so I rode a bus for a year.
One right decision led to another. I finally started seeing a change in my life, but the addict in me refused to give up some people. The second spouse I had while I was in my addiction continued to use while I stayed strong. My sponsor at the time kept telling me to give myself time before making any life changing decisions. Boy, am I happy I listened to her. After 6 years in recovery, I looked at him one day and said I don’t want this anymore. There is nothing wrong with you and how you choose to live your life, it’s just not how I want to live mine. Everyone wondered how I made it so long in recovery with a spouse that used. My answer was always the same - no one can take my recovery away from me but me, and I am not surrendering to anyone or anything.
Eventually life started taking over, kids, work, sporting events, and family. I found the traditional recovery program was no longer for me. I started working on my self-care, my mental health, and utilizing my faith in my higher power. Things went well for a long time. I was growing as a person, I was becoming a beneficial member to society, and changes were happening in my life. I bought a house and a new car and started working on my relationships with my kids. My children hated me for who I was during my active addiction. They were just waiting for me to fail and go back to using. To them, it did not matter how many times I told them I changed, [or] showed them I had, they still saw the addict. I had determination and faith [that] someday they would change their views. I took verbal beating after verbal beating from them for years. Until 2020, when my oldest son looked at me and said I love you mom. He said this after his brother, my second son, was in a tragic work accident and almost died. I made it through his accident being the mom both he and his siblings needed. Their father unfortunately did not, [and] he fell into the numbness of addiction.
After the accident, and [when] my son started his own path of healing and recovery, I knew it was my time to grow in my recovery and my life. My grandmother (who was my only form of parent) passed away. I was never able to repair my relationship with her before she passed, but I know she got to see my accomplishments. I know she was proud of me. There was one lie that was a constant in my life and in order to grow I had to face it. I never graduated from High School. So, I made the appointment took the test, and passed them all.
Now… I am a firm believer everything happens for a reason… because it is those awful things that make you grow into the person you were meant to be. When I took the last test the sweet little old lady at the desk in the lobby handed me a card and said, honey, I feel you need this. I looked up their website and they were holding the Certified Recovery classes. I took the class and that led me into helping others.
One thing I can say is over the years I have found many things that keep me active daily in my recovery and here are those tips:
Recovery is a way of life. You have to fully live a recovery lifestyle to be successful.
I am not responsible for the choices and the actions of others. I am only responsible for my own.
I am no longer the victim of my circumstance. I am the survivor.
It is okay to not be okay. My recovery and self-care must always come first.
The choices I make today affect my tomorrow.
I … refuse to allow anyone to take from me what I have earned.
I want to say thank you for hearing this or reading this whatever the case may be. Just remember, you are not alone in your thoughts and feelings as we all have them. We all struggle the same, it’s what we do with those struggles that matter.