My journey began with trauma from a very young age, multiple instances of sexual abuse and rape that were never addressed. That pain manifested in an eating disorder and unhealthy relationship choices. I ended up in a violent relationship with the father of my children, a serial abuser and cheater. I had no self-worth, no willpower, and turned to drink and drugs as an escape. But it wasn’t an escape, it was a prison. I was at war with my mind and my choices. I didn’t care about living, but I didn’t have the courage to end it either.
Losing my two oldest boys to adoption was unbearable. The pain of not seeing them was too much to face sober. I spiralled deeper, selling my soul to addiction and chaos for over a decade. Then, unexpectedly, I became pregnant again. That moment was a wake-up call, I couldn’t lose another child. A friend from Salford Church helped me get into a recovery house in Sheffield. I was five months pregnant when I realised the damage I could have caused to my baby. Time was short, but I had to turn things around.
My son was taken from me at birth, and the fight to get him back began. After lockdown, he was returned to my care. But while I won that battle, I hadn’t truly committed to recovery. The demons crept back in, whispering that one drink wouldn’t hurt. That one turned into many. Depression followed, and I asked for respite care for my son, thinking I’d sort myself out. But that decision led to him being considered for adoption again. I hit rock bottom.
Thank God, I found the strength to fight, not just for my son, but for myself. I realised I needed him, and he needed me. I had to confront my trauma, my distorted thinking, and my behaviours. I had to forgive myself, shed the guilt and shame, and dive deep into therapy and lots of it. Amid this, I fell in love with a woman who saw my worth even at my worst. Her love helped me believe in myself again.
I learned that I can never touch alcohol again. The only drink I can say no to is the first one. I surrounded myself with people who understood and didn’t judge. The Ambassador Programme gave me purpose and kept me engaged in life. That led to a placement with the Hepatitis C Trust, where I now focus on helping others. Good things started falling into place. I became sober, present, and hopeful, though always mindful.
The hardest part was bettering myself while sober, with all the mixed emotions swirling in my head. My son wasn’t coming home,yet. But I led with faith, hope, and prayer. Now, I’m back in court, not arguing if he’ll come home, but when. He’s no longer up for adoption, and all parties agree he should return to me and my future wife.
Living sober and embracing recovery has given me a future worth living. I’m no longer just existing. I may not know exactly where I’m going, but I know I’m not going back. Recovery counts, one day at a time.
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