Post #1 ~I Didn't Dream of Addiction

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When I was a little girl in first grade, we went around the room sharing what we wanted to be when we grew up. You could hear dreams like “Doctor,” “Fireman,” “Policeman,” even “President of the United States.” I didn’t stand up and say, “I can’t wait to be a drug addict.” I said, “I want to be a princess.” That definitely didn’t happen. And just like me, I bet you didn’t plan to have the life you have either.

Welcome to a place where you are truly safe to be yourself. I remember what it was like to never feel secure with anyone, always feeling like I had to put on an act just to survive. You know what it’s like to be a chameleon, constantly adapting to everyone you meet. Here, you don’t have to pretend, you are accepted exactly as you are. Everyone that reads this will not have the same story. You could be someone that is questioning if you are an addict, you can be someone that knows you are an addict, or you could be someone that has been able to stop using but are deathly afraid that you are about to use again. Just know you are not alone! 

Addiction does not discriminate. You could be living on Fifth Avenue in a luxury apartment or on Skid Row in Los Angeles, searching for your next meal. Maybe you grew up on a quiet farm in Indiana, surrounded by fields, or in a home marked by violence and addiction in California. You might come from a family that practiced Christianity, or one that was atheistic. You could be a successful executive, dressed in a suit and working in a high-rise office, or someone struggling to find shelter each night. Addiction can affect anyone, no matter their background, upbringing, or beliefs.

Throughout my life, I’ve had those moments, you know the ones. Quiet realizations that make you wonder, “Maybe this isn’t what everyone else goes through.” One of those moments happened just as I was turning 18. By this point, my parents had already placed me in multiple treatment centers. I was experiencing yet another relapse.

During that time, I was dating a guy, and we had a group of so-called “loyal” friends. They convinced me to be the getaway driver for a plan we mapped out down to the last detail. Not long after, I found myself sitting in jail, facing 37 felony charges. The police caught everyone except the guy I was dating. I truly believed he would come and rescue me, but instead, he abandoned all of us.

As I sat in that jail cell—a few days before my senior prom—my mind was spinning. I kept asking myself why I couldn’t stop making these terrible choices. Later that evening, I was released on my own recognizance with a promise to appear in court. After my release, I quickly pushed aside my fear and regret over my poor decisions.

Soon after, I met my court-ordered attorney. He told me I was fortunate because, rather than having a public defender, I had a good criminal attorney assigned to my case. When we visited his office, he immediately recognized that I was still using. He called me an addict, then showed me a book filled with photos of women he had represented over the years. Flipping through the pages, I saw how these women went from being vibrant young adults to looking decades older after only three to five years on meth—changes that seemed to age them fifty years.

At the time, I remember insisting to my attorney, “That won’t happen to me because I’m going to stop using.” I was lucky, all of my charges were reduced from 37 felonies to 7. Since I had no prior offenses, they offered me felony probation. I was genuinely grateful. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before I started using again.

What I didn’t realize back then was that this moment was just one of many—quiet, painful, and revealing—that whispered, maybe I’m not like everyone else.Maybe, just maybe, I was an addict. That story happened nearly two decades before I found recovery. Looking back, I see how every moment—every choice, every consequence—was shaping the path I’d eventually walk. Our lives aren’t random. They’re built from the decisions we make, even the ones we don’t understand at the time.

I’ll be sharing more of my story, piece by piece. The good, the ugly, the sacred. If any part of this speaks to you, I hope you’ll come back. Comment, message, or just read quietly. You’re welcome here.

If you’re searching for a sign, maybe this is it.

You are seen. You are loved. You are never alone. -Roni

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