My story begins here ... December 5, 2004

My story is more about addictive behaviors than the drugs. But the drugs were there. Early in my life, the behaviors were present. I hated everything about my life; not in content but in feeling. I loved my sisters, but I wanted to be white. Everybody outside of our family was white. We lived in an all-white neighborhood and went to an all-white school. I loved my parents, but my dad touched me and my mom wouldn't help. This is a simplified version of a very dysfunctional family.

My first behaviors were fantasy because if I could pretend to be somebody else or somewhere else, I would be OK. By age 17 and after many suicide attempts, I was diagnosed with bi-polar disorder. At age18, I became pregnant for the first time and was forced to marry someone who was not the baby's father because my family did not approve of him. By age 20, I was getting a divorce from this very abusive man, and I was pregnant again. This is where alcohol came into the picture. You can't do a lot of pretending when you have kids, so I quickly found out that I could "not be me" when I was drinking. My drinking took me into many abusive relationships, two more abusive marriages and three more children. In 2002, I moved back to New York from California — broken, depressed and divorced for the third time. I tried to pull it together and stopped using drugs or alcohol, but by 2003, I found crack and I did not have to be depressed anymore ... or so I thought.

By December 2004, my life was in ruins. I had lost my car, my job, had no electricity, no water and was arrested for credit card fraud. I was a 48-year-old "crack head," and I wanted to die. By some miracle my brother picked me up from jail. I told him I needed help. He refused. At some point a few minutes later, the words, "I am a crack head and a thief and I need help!" came out of my mouth. I didn't realize it until some time later, but I had completely surrendered on December 5, 2004. I have found no reason to use any drugs or alcohol since. My recovery has taken me in and out of relationships (still co-dependent) and in and out of depression (was on medication for five years), but recovery is so much better than addiction.

Today, I am two years and one month off cigarettes, three months off caffeine and I just graduated (7/10/10) from OTI with my Credentialed Alcoholism and Substance Abuse Counselor-Trainee (CASAC-T) pending. I am proof, at 54 years old that it is never too late to turn your life around. I came from being a molested, angry child to a substance abuse counselor in just five and a half years.

It is truly a miracle and I am so blessed. I will be pursuing my bachelor's degree in social work come spring and my master's degree in family counseling after that. My goal is to help Native-American families heal from addiction.

My name is Deborah. This is my story. What's Your Story?

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