“I feel like I’ve broken a generational curse. I get to be a mom. I get to be a sober mom. There was a reason I was still alive. I had to get sober to figure out why.”– Trisha
I thought I was going to work at Burger King for the rest of my life. Life was nothing. Just work and using. I grew up in Willmar on the same land my mom grew up on. I remember how clear the stars were and the long, wide vegetable garden we would grow every summer, but my childhood was shaded with abuse.
At 18 I started smoking marijuana and then at 20 I was introduced to meth. It took over the next three years of my life. I lost my older children to the system before they reached their second birthdays. Addiction cut off dreams of a bigger life and narrowed my options down to getting the next high.
Addiction eventually cornered me into a jail cell, high off meth and hallucinating. I was arrested five months after I gave birth to a stillborn baby boy, locked in a holding area for two weeks, delirious and imagining I could crawl through the little slot in the jail door. I had tried to kill myself in the weeks following my baby’s death, but my sister found me, and I survived. There was a reason I was still alive. I had to get sober to figure out why.
I was kicked out of my first treatment center when they discovered I was pregnant. I arrived at Wayside Family Treatment and the support I felt was immediate.
“They supported me through my pregnancy and after my daughter was born, through my relapses and getting sober. Then I moved into Wayside Supportive Housing and the support continued; they held me accountable for my sobriety, encouraged friendships, they offered parenting advice…even though I didn’t take it right away! I realized I have a future; the possibilities are endless if I put my mind to it.”
I am now 10 years sober. I graduated with an Associate’s degree in Addiction Counseling this past May and am working on my B.A. I work as a counselor in a treatment center and tell my patients that addiction is a battle we’ll be fighting the rest of our lives, so we need to be real in order to move on. Recovery and a life worth living is possible.
I have never been a mother to anyone past the age of two, but I am a mother now; a mother to an eight-year-old daughter who is a ball of energy and loves swimming. I take her to gymnastics on Saturdays and I feel I’ve broken a generational curse. I get to be a mom. I get to be a sober mom. I want people to know that addiction is a disease, but that life with all its potential is not lost because of it, we just have to fight for every sober day.