Life story
Growing up, my first memory was living with my family in the basement of my grandmother's house. I was four years old at the time. My family consisted of my parents, and my two older brothers, Dan and Corey. Life in my grandma's house was decent. Spent a lot of time with friends in the neighborhood, had a roof over my head, food on the table, and was surrounded by all kinds of animals. I remember my dad had a little bar down in the basement, and I always pondered what lingered in the contents of those bottles. Somewhere down the line in life, I was about to find out. My parents had purchased their first house. Around that time, my dad had bought us a family dog. So, we all packed up and moved into our new home. The stress of living in a new house had really taken a toll on my father. I can't recall when things started to go downhill, but I just remember my dad's alcoholism was really hard on me as a young girl. I didn't fully understand it, and a lot of the time I blamed myself for what he was going through. I just remember the tension in the house, and how much his demeanor changed due to this liquid. Life can throw so much stress at you, and sometimes we all find that unhealthy way to cope. I just remember listening to my parents yelling at night, watching my mom pour my dad's liquor down the drain, and waking up to glass on the floor in our house some mornings. Despite all the dysfunction, my childhood had its happy moments too. My dad did a lot for us, even in the midst of his struggles. That is a good way for me to remind myself that just because he suffered with an addiction, that doesn't mean that's all he is. My father taught me a lot about honesty, and hard work. He built my brothers and I a pool table. He was a great father, he was just searching for happiness, and stress relief in all the wrong places.
My parents split up when I was ten years old. This was a weird time in my life. My oldest brother, Dan, was in foster care. I believe at the time; I was really struggling with all the chaos that was going on in my family. It was hard for me to find peace. We had started family counseling and even though I was a young girl, I feel like I found my peace again. We did an activity with the counselor and my dad had to tell me what animal I represented. He told me that I remind him of a peacock, because I am beautiful without makeup. This experience made me fall in love with the idea of helping families. I had found my purpose, and I knew in my heart that helping people was what my true calling in life was. My parents ended up getting back together. Things were starting to look up. My father's drinking had decreased, and he started a truck driving business. At this point, I still felt very distant from my dad, but I was very proud of him. Fast forward to 14-year-old me. I was still trying to find my place in the world. I think I started to drink, and smoke weed to cope with all the unresolved trauma that I had experienced in my childhood. I watched both of my brothers experiment with drugs. I was worried for them at the time, because I still couldn't fully wrap my head around what addiction actually was. Now that I have gone through my battle of addiction I realize that sometimes we need to stumble, fall, learn, and get back up on our feet in order to get to where we are meant to be.
I've worn a lot of labels in my life. One label I wear very proudly is being a high school graduate. My dad showed up at my graduation ceremony and that warmed my heart. I did very well in school, but there are a few things I wish I could go back and change, if I had the chance. I've been a college student, but unfortunately, I got into a car accident, and I was too scared to drive back to school, so I dropped out. I decided to work as a full-time fast-food employee. I was very dedicated to my job. Even though behind the scenes I was drinking way too much, experimenting with numerous drugs, and addicted to a certain prescription drug. At the time though, I didn't see anything wrong with what I was doing. I worked my way up to general manager, and then quit my job. I was in an unhealthy relationship that I needed to get myself out of. Even though there were many signs of abuse and manipulation, I didn't see anything wrong with the relationship I was in. I thought he loved me, but at the time I didn't even know what love meant. I ended up giving him another chance though, and moving back in with him, yet again. I was in a vulnerable spot at this point in my life. My parents were going through a divorce, and it was really hard for me to accept the fact that my family was falling apart. So, I did what I felt was right at the time. I went back to Jake, the guy that felt like family, and I got pregnant with my oldest son. We decided to name him Noah James Theissen. He was my whole world. Being a mother had become my new label, and it was my favorite label yet.
I had been dedicated to being the best mom possible, but after four months of Noah being on this earth, I began experimenting with drugs and alcohol again. I thought my actions were okay, but the thing I didn't realize is that drugs take a lot out of you. Kids need you to be there with them 100% of the time, and my use really took that crucial bonding time away. When Noah was about six months old, I found out I was pregnant. This pregnancy was more difficult than my first, not due to morning sickness or any other complications, but this time I was watching my kid's dad struggle with a new addiction to fentanyl pills. It put a lot of stress on me wishing he would stop using so our children could have a caring, sober, and involved dad that they deserve in their lives. Our handsome baby boy was born on December 8th, 2019. We named him Maxwell William Theissen. He was precious, but I feel like the pressure of taking care of two kids really overwhelmed me. Yet again, I was looking for an unhealthy way to cope with life on life's terms. I was also very unhappy with how much weight I had gained, and I was looking for a fast solution to both problems. This is the time in my life when my addiction spiraled, and things became out of control. It all started with abusing my prescription that I was given to help relieve the pain of my C-section. Then I was doing acid every weekend and drinking heavily. When Maxwell, my youngest, was about two months old, my kid's dad offered me a fentanyl pill. I snorted one line, and I was instantly hooked. I started to mix the fentanyl high with meth, and my addict mind convinced myself that I had found the perfect combination. In all reality, it is very dangerous to mix those two drugs, and I am so lucky to be alive today. Things started to go downhill fast, and I soon came to the realization that harmless experimenting had turned me into a desperate fiend. My kid's dad and I had started to sell anything valuable, just so we could avoid the terrible withdrawals. Our love had turned into crushing resentment, and our addiction caused us to make choices that our hearts wouldn't recognize, if we were in our clean state of mind.
My kid's dad got arrested for domestic abuse. He is not the villain in this story, and I am not the victim. We both played a part in the awful situation, and drugs stole all of the morals that we once had. I made my own choices, and I created a new label in my life. One that I am not proud of, but I embrace it. So, my boys and I left the house that we were living in. We moved in with my dad. It broke his heart, seeing the state that I was in when I showed up at his house. I was high as a kite and covered in bruises. The addiction I was trying to hide, had finally come to the surface. My dad seemed ashamed, and the whole time I was living with him I felt like he judged me by my addiction. He created this stigma in his mind that I was a thief, a liar, and a loser. It hurt that he didn't understand my struggle, because he had been in my shoes, experienced all the pain, just with a different substance. All addiction is the same in my eyes. All substances ruin lives, kill people, and destroy families. Not one addict is better than the other, we're all equal. In fact, all humans are equal, regardless of how we decide to cope with life on life's terms.
So, life with my dad became rocky, and I got kicked out of his house after four months of living with him. Even though I wasn't using hard drugs at the time, I was still thinking like an addict. I would push boundaries, steal alcohol from my dad, and disrespect his rules. When I look back on my actions, I don't blame him for the way he treated me. So, I went on my way with my boys and moved in with my mother this time. This might have been a very poor choice on my part. There was too much freedom with my mom, and I think that got to my head. I remember I moved in with my mom around my son Max's 1st birthday. Max's dad wanted to see Max, so I made arrangements for that to happen. Things went well for a couple of weeks, and then the temptations got to me. Jake was using meth heavily at this point, and he was using it around me one night. I asked him for a line, and the obsession started once again. It started off slowly, but before I knew it, I was homeless in my car with my kids. This was honestly the lowest I've ever been in my life. Smoking dope had come before everything, clothing, food, shelter, and safety. These are basic things that humans need to survive, and I threw all that out the window, just to get high. This was the first time that I had CPS involvement. Jake had to go to a probation meeting, and I was outside, passed out in my car. I woke up to his probation officer, and a CPS case worker standing outside my car window. I was terrified, I didn't know what was going to happen. I was honest with them and told them that I had meth and fentanyl in my system. Thankfully I got to keep my kids in my custody. I went back to living with my mom, and I was so grateful to have a bed to sleep in every night, to be able to take a shower, and to have an oven to cook food on. It taught me a lot about gratitude and also taught me to appreciate the little things that we all take for granted on a daily basis. I was put on a sweat patch, and life was going well. I had a job at a hotel as a housekeeper, and I enjoyed it. It felt good getting my life back on track. It's a slippery slope though, because as soon as Jake got out of treatment, and they told me I could get the sweat patch off I went right back to using. The obsession with fentanyl pills had started back up again. I had money to use, and it was spent on getting large amounts of pills. We were going through 20 pills in two days. Things were getting bad again. I went to work high, and my manager noticed, and I was terrified of getting fired. I lost my job, because I decided to go on a binge and smoke meth for two weeks straight. I was shocked that this was the reality that I created for myself, and it really broke my heart to see the pain that I was putting everyone in my family through.
Admitting to my mom that I had a drug problem was one of the hardest things to do in my life. I guess I didn't have to come clean at all, I was using drugs in her house, and she knows me better than anyone. It got to the point where she couldn't handle watching me self-destruct anymore. She never said anything, but I know that it broke her heart watching me use drugs that were making me lose weight and changing my whole demeanor. Yet again, she was watching someone she loves cope in the unhealthiest way possible. She didn't want me in her house, so I decided to take my kids, and move once again.
I knew it was a terrible idea, but I moved three hours away from anyone that I knew. I ended up moving into a trailer with my kid's dad, and his friend. Things ended up turning out to be really bad, probably the worst they have ever been. The abuse with Jake got bad, and it really hurt... thinking I could make things better, but slowly just watched things crumble. I was the saddest I'd ever been. I watched my life long best friend slowly turn into my enemy. I was using drugs to find happiness, and somehow, I thought happiness would be hidden somewhere in the smoke that I blew out of the pipe. I was sadly mistaken though, things just got confusing. I got so high, the hallucinations I saw still scare me to this day. I was using more than I ever had in the past. The fun that I got from using, had definitely turned into a living nightmare. It got to the point where I still can't even distinguish. what is reality, and what isn't. This was the point where I knew things had gotten bad, but I still was too ashamed to admit to myself. I hated admitting to myself that I had a serious problem, that I needed help, and it was hard accepting that I needed to find a totally different way to live life.
I prayed to get out of that situation, and eventually God answered my prayers. My dad picked me up, and the first place we went to the next morning was church. I was in a very distraught state of mind. CPS had custody of my kids, and at this point everything I had experienced in the past month had felt like a really fucked up dream. It was really hard accepting the fact that my kids had been taken away. If I saw any kids, I would break down crying. This was my wake-up call to live the life that my kids deserve to have. I was still in that addict mindset though, and it took a lot of convincing for me to stop being in denial about my disease. Talking about my situation is what brought me out of my denial. I went to three AA meetings with my dad. The first one I just sat and listened, and the second one I went to is when I finally woke up and admitted to myself that I have a problem with drugs. I can't explain how peaceful I felt. It felt so good being true to myself, and just accepting myself for what I am, not trying to sugar coat the ugliness that addiction is. Even though my life was a total mess, I felt so free, coming to terms with my demon. I was going to do whatever I needed to do to get my kids back. Two weeks later, I went to impatient treatment, and I was so excited to go. I knew I had so much to learn, and I have been waiting for an experience like that. Just to be surrounded by people who know what I'm going through, hear other people's experiences, and be vulnerable enough to share my story. It was such an eye-opening experience for me, and all my hard work had paid off.
After I graduated from impatient treatment, I moved into a sober living house. I still reside there to this day. I am on a home visit trial with my two beautiful sons, and I am hoping that my CPS case will close in April. I have been meth free for 7 months, and fentanyl free for 8 months. God answered my prayers, and has given me the most beautiful life, one that I have been dreaming of for so long. My struggles have led me to where I am today and helped rekindle the passion in my soul that I have for helping other people. I am planning on becoming a peer recovery coach, and I want to guide people through sobriety, and let them know that there is light at the end of the tunnel. I feel like there is so much darkness that addiction brings to the world, and I want to bring that light into people's live and let them know that it is okay to struggle, but when you are done struggling, grab my hand and let me lead you towards the road of sobriety, because it is the most beautiful thing.
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