I grew up during the height of the opioid crisis, introduced to opioids at just 12 years old. My father — my rock star — had been diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma when I was born. Addiction was already part of our family story long before I understood what it meant. Generational curses can run deep.
By 13, I faced my first juvenile charges, including felonies for prescription fraud. I had already become a full-blown IV drug user, using alongside friends and family, destroying relationships, and pushing away those who cared for me most.
In 2015, my father overdosed. His death sent me spiraling deeper — overdosing on street corners in Newark and Miami, on highways, and even on Skid Row in Los Angeles. In 2018, I landed in the hospital with an infection that nearly cost me my right arm.
It was the lowest point of my life. But it wasn’t the end of my story.
Planes, trains, and automobiles later, I made it to Bloomington, Indiana, where I checked into treatment and tried sober living for the first time. It took several attempts, but something finally clicked. Through treatment, community, and faith, I found the strength to keep going.
By the grace of God, I am still here today — with a testimony and a divine purpose.
Recovery gave me more than sobriety. It gave me a new way to live. I filled the void in my heart with love and gratitude. I built a career and a family. I reunited with my brother after more than a decade apart.
And I found a home with Avenues Recovery.
Today, I welcome every person who walks through our doors with open arms and an honest desire to help them navigate what can be a difficult but transformative process. Avenues isn’t just where I work — it’s my family.
I am living proof that recovery is possible. My story is one of pain, loss, and second chances. And it’s one I carry with gratitude every single day.