The path to recovery

It was the day of my mother's funeral, and I looked around, hoping to find my old neighbor. I was really scared because I honestly didn't know how our conversation would go. Finding her across the room I went and knelt by her chair. "Flo, please forgive me for breaking in your house 5 years ago. I never meant to hurt you in that way, and I am so sorry for what I did to you." Her eyes filled with tears; my fears disappeared. "I have waited for you to get yourself together and I am so glad you have. Your apology is all I really wanted to hear." I didn't know what I expected, but it certainly hadn't been this. We hugged and cried together, and I was so grateful for her forgiveness. It wasn't something I deserved at all and I knew what a gift it was. Five years ago, I was a different person, a monster, someone who only looked out for herself.

The night I decided to break in her house, I was strung out on drugs. It was 1 am and I knew she wasn't home, and I thought I could find something to pawn so I could get more dope. Not thinking clearly, I broke out her laundry room window. I wasn't worried about anyone finding out, no one would know it was me, and I somehow always escaped major consequences. As time went by, I got even more comfortable about getting away. A year later, the cops showed up at my house and they had a warrant for my arrest. Apparently, they took fingerprints, and the lab was just really backlogged. At my court date, I was shocked when I was given a sentence of no less than one year and no more than 15 in the penitentiary. I really expected I would get probation, as I had the other couple of times I got in trouble. For the first few weeks in jail, my body went through horrific withdrawal symptoms. It seemed like it couldn't get any worse, but it did. After a couple of months, I felt my feelings returning and I was expected to just deal with them. In the past I used drugs to not feel those emotions and feelings. I had no clue how to actually deal with them. It's like I woke up from a nightmare, and I felt so much shame, and embarrassment, at all of the things I had done. Twenty years is a long time, and I had hurt a whole lot of people, including myself. I didn't even know if my family was going to give me another chance and I couldn't blame them. Over the next four months, I laid in my bunk and dwelled on my past and finally, I decided I had to change. I didn't want to be a monster anymore. Playing spades one night, I shared my desire with another inmate. She immediately recommended the RSAT program. "What's that?" I asked. "It's the Residential Substance Abuse Treatment program, it’s like rehab. You have to qualify for it though." That night, I decided to do something with my time and try to get into the program. I had never tried rehab before, and it certainly couldn't hurt to try something different. The qualification irked me though because I figured there must be answers they were specifically looking for. So, I asked every girl that lived in my pod with me and I asked people in the hall when we went out to rec. Finally, I found a girl that knew one question you had to answer yes to. It was "have you used IV drugs in the past six months." That question gave me an idea of what they were looking for, and even though I hadn't done any drugs in my 7 months in jail, I decided to say whatever it took to get in. A few months later, I was transferred to prison, and I found out I had qualified for the program. It felt so good to know that I was finally going to get a chance to learn how to change my destructive behavior. Luckily, it only took a week to start, and I made the decision to put my whole heart into working the program. On my first day, the director called me into her office. Really nervous, I walked in looking down at the floor. She took one look at me and said, "by the end of this program, you will hold your head high and you won't look down anymore." Even though I had high hopes myself, I thought she was dreaming. After years of self-hatred, my confidence was gone, and my self-esteem was non-existent. I didn't really think I would be able to change that much over the course of a year, but I just smiled at her. 

In the first few weeks, I had to learn a whole new way of doing things. It was really hard at first. My old behaviors came out often, little lies here and there, but each time I messed up, I was confronted about it. I was learning to take accountability for my behavior, and my actions, and the ways in which they affected other people. It felt like I was in elementary school because I was relearning things that most adults had mastered a long time ago. Doing drugs for all those years allowed me to escape from everything. As the weeks went on, I found my behavior was changing entirely. The classes were really helping me and I learned things like coping strategies, and how to change my negative thoughts into positive ones Then I was faced with something that filled me with such fear that I almost gave up and went back to general population. They wanted me to tell my story for twenty minutes. How could I possibly tell these people about the trauma in my childhood, or about the things I had done in active addiction? The other girls in the program explained how growth can be uncomfortable, and I didn't want to give up after all the progress I had made. When I sat down in front of the group I was shaking, but I forced myself to begin. Time seemed like it was going slower than ever, but once I started, the words just began to flow out. I breathed a sigh of relief when it was over. The other girls got up and clapped, and I realized there was no judgment in their eyes. These girls were just like me. My talk was a turning point, and I steadily progressed in the program, going through my past behavior with a fine-tooth comb. I finally learned what values were and I picked out the ones which I felt were the most important for me. After working the program for a while, I was elected as group leader, and it felt good to be trusted with the role. Suddenly a year had went by in the program, and I was finally ready to graduate and see the parole board. I was really excited to see the parole board, but I tried to not be too hopeful. They could still decide to keep me for a long time, especially because I had a criminal history that went beyond my current stay. A part of me was a little afraid to leave, because I felt safe in RSAT, and I worried that things on the outside would overwhelm me. It was finally time to see parole. Walking into the room, I sat in the chair across from 3 serious looking men and I got scared. I didn't want to screw this up. No one talked for the first 3 minutes until finally, the man on the right spoke up: "Do you think completing RSAT will give you a better chance at success in the future?" Thinking about my answer carefully, I finally replied, "The tools and coping strategies I have learned in RSAT will help me on the outside. I have changed my old behaviors, and I think I should be given a chance to implement all the things I have learned. The person I was when I came into the program is not the same person I am today. I have confidence and I believe I can do this." Their response was to ask me to go sit in reception while they decided my fate. Their lack of questions or of a response to my question couldn't have possibly been a good thing, I thought as I sat there. I didn't have to wait very long before I was called back in the room. The man on the right spoke again, "We have decided to give you a chance at parole." 

Two days later, I got out. It was one of the best moments of my life. My mother came to pick me up and I got to hug her for the first time in 16 months. Breathing in the smell of her hair, I laid my head on her shoulder and cried. I was no longer the monster I once was, and I didn't have to hurt people anymore. I moved back in with my mom and things went really well. My mother had so much belief in me, and I didn't want to let her down, and I didn't want to let myself down. Since I had lost my career to the drugs, I had to start at the bottom in fast food. It was a job I was proud of though because I felt like I had fought so hard to get there. My confidence and self-worth began to grow even more as I started healing some old relationships and building some new ones. A year after my release, I was able to get my own apartment. Then I decided to go back to school and finish my Bachelor's degree. Since then, I have been a completely different person. There have been some hardships and relapses along the way, but I have never returned back to the old me. One of the most gratifying outcomes was how much better my relationship with my mom became. I feel lucky to have had five good years with her before she passed away. Being in active addiction for twenty years was absolute hell and I am so fortunate to have made it through to the other side, while many of my friends weren't so lucky. 

I am lucky I got the chance to become a better, and happier version of myself.