Pivotal Moment Of My Life

There came a day when I had finally had enough of my own mess. I knew it was time to take control of my life, to find the strength I needed to get clean. My downward spiral began with depression, and soon I found myself addicted to narcotics, drinking to numb the emptiness I felt inside. It seemed as if my soul had left my body. I felt like a failure—both as a wife and as a mother.

For years, I struggled with depression after the collapse of my marriage. The worst thing I ever imagined happened. I walked in on my husband and my child hood best friend. All I had ever wanted was the picture-perfect family, like the ones I saw on TV. It took me a long time to realize that comparing my life to those fictional families was unrealistic and damaging.

In 2014, something shifted. I knew I needed to change. My father was losing his long battle with leukemia, and I was trying to run from it, filling the void with drugs and alcohol because I couldn’t cope with the reality of his death—or with myself. I had no solid support system and had let fear dictate my actions for far too long. As a little girl, I used to cry at the thought of my father passing away, but now that it was happening, I couldn’t face it. Fear pushed me away from him when I should have drawn closer.

During the final week of his life, I struggled to find the strength to visit him in the hospital. But I did. And that one visit changed everything. While I prayed over him, even though he had been unresponsive, my father opened his eyes during the prayer. It was in that moment that I felt God’s presence in the room, and I finally asked the questions I had been too scared to face: was my father in heaven?

Growing up, I never heard my dad talk about God, nor did I ever remember him going to church. But in that moment, just after the prayer, something powerful happened. Hospice came in to transfer him, preparing him for his last days. As they wheeled him down the hall, my father found the strength one last time to open his eyes, look at me and my mother, and tell us he loved us. It was the hardest moment of my life, but it was also the moment I knew I had to change.

After his passing, I made the decision to confront my own fears and break free from the addictions that had been controlling my life. I laid him to rest and soon after, I began my journey to getting clean. I cried out to God, begging for the strength to carry on.

Since then, it’s been a battle—a daily war to stay sober-minded, to remove anything from my life that hinders my recovery. But through it all, I’ve learned that true freedom starts with enough is enough. That’s the day I chose life over my fears, and I’ve been fighting for it ever since.

R.I.P. DADDY

LOVE, YOUR PUMPKIN

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