Ally: Multiple Pathways of Recovery

It was as if my heart woke me up before the sound of my baby crying out to me. It was around 2:30am and I quickly picked him up, held him close, and swayed back and forth as I felt him collapse into my arms. I started to sing to him and felt him slowly find calmness. My arms were aching, my body desperate for sleep, yet my heart overflowing with love and purpose. As he started to settle back into slumber, I held him close, felt a gratitude tear fall down my cheek, and whispered in his ear, “I’m so glad I stayed, you were waiting for me this whole time…”

On Thanksgiving in 2015, I was 22 years old and rather than helping prep for our family gathering, I was overtaken by the turmoil that, yet another heroin and self-harm relapse had brought me. I was recently released from serving 9 months of incarceration due to felonies I was convicted of. All my charges stemmed from years of substance misuse, leading to a life of desperation, guilt, and hopelessness. As I surrounded myself with loved ones, all I could feel was shame. Later that night I knew I didn’t have any more fight, or survival, left in me. The way I was living, the way I continued to hurt others, the way I coped with things – it was a push to make a change. I started frantically contacting treatment centers and every one of them were filled or couldn’t accommodate due to the holiday. I lost hope and while I was awake late at night, I planned to end my life. Minutes before fully following through with that plan, a treatment center just a few miles away called me to say, “we have space for you, how quickly can we get you here?”…

Before I was incarcerated, I was living in a condemned tiny apartment that I used to rent in Bridgeport, CT. It had no electricity, no water, no gas, and was infested with roaches. I had lived in my car before I had lost possession of it, so any form of shelter I would take, no matter the condition. When I was released from York Correctional Institution in Niantic, CT, I was discharged on early release with one condition: have a place to live. My mom and stepdad welcomed me into their home, my childhood home in Fairfield, CT, to help support the transitional process. I remember my release date and walking into my old bedroom, completely redecorated by my mom into a comforting, inviting, new aura. I had everything I thought I could need to succeed in my journey: a home, family, a part time job, and beyond my basic needs. What I’ve found is that trauma doesn’t care where you live, who you’re around, or what is going on. It’ll find a way to surface, bring back haunting memories and feelings, and bring out the toughest sides of our inner critic. The only tool I knew so well to cope with that was self-harm and substance use. Within 6 months of my release from prison, I was back to using again. I had let down my entire support team and myself once again. 

Just days into my treatment, I was starting to feel hopeless again. My body was aching as I was experiencing withdrawals from heroin use, I couldn’t sleep, and I felt discouraged. I remember sliding myself off my bed, onto the floor, and curled in a c-curl position. As tears came down my face, I placed my hand over my heart and called out to the universe for some motivation. I remember picturing myself in ten years, saying, “one day, you will be ok. You will have a home filled with your own little family. You will have a career again and you will be a mom one day. We just have to keep going. Just for tonight, let’s keep going. Just one more day.” It was like I was sending a bat signal to my future batwoman self and talking myself through this pivoting moment. 

Throughout my journey of treatment from detox to intensive outpatient care, therapy, and community recovery supports, I have found so many pathways of recovery, tools and skills to cope with my mental health, and many relapse prevention techniques. The majority of my treatment was from Recovery Network of Programs in Bridgeport, CT. I credit my recovery to many clinicians that met me with compassion, empathy, validation, and unconditional positive regard (thank you eternally to Matt and Melissa). EMDR therapy has been something I strongly advocate for individuals to experience because it’s truly changed the chemistry of my brain and the way I respond to stress, panic attacks, flashbacks, and trauma activators. 

Thanks to the various types of help I received, I was able to mend relationships with my family and have repaired relationships I never thought possible. My mom has always been a steady anchor for me, even in times where I was not my real self. We’ve made amends on both sides of our relationship and now being a mother myself, I understand her more than I ever have, and rely on her on how to survive first time motherhood. My almost 98-year-old grandmother has been a huge role throughout my life and healing too, relying on faith, love, and a whole lot of ice cream to conquer anything. I have a huge box of cards and letters that I saved that her and my mom wrote me, twice per week (sometimes more) throughout my incarceration period.

Early in my recovery, I got involved in community recovery supports and started sharing my story. Since 2016, I’ve spoken to over 50,000 individuals (one of them being my now husband!) – from conferences, community events, private events, schools, and more. I was able to complete the Drug and Alcohol Recovery Counselor program, receive an associate’s degree, and now continue my education to pursue a master’s in social work. I’ve worked in various peer support roles helping hundreds of individuals around trauma, incarceration, mental health, and recovery. Whether it’s prevention, education, treatment, or harm-reduction, I’ve found a way to immerse myself into all aspects of the behavioral health field. 

That Batwoman future self is here now, still not sleeping, body aching, but far from hopeless. I’m awake at night and having sore arms for a purpose-filled life caretaking my sweet boy. Ten years later, just as I predicted, I have everything I hoped for and more. I gaze into my sons’ eyes and know that without my resilience, he wouldn’t exist. 

Recovery has brought me incredible careers, education, a full pardon, mental health and trauma support, and stability. I became a homeowner, got married, and welcomed my son in August 2024. I have coping skills that I treasure and utilize throughout every day. Celebrating and reflecting on recently achieving a decade in recovery, becoming a mother has been the greatest gift of healing. I’ve taken an enormous pause on my career to have the priceless gift of staying home with my son and I’ll never regret this choice. My purpose now is so much more than a person in recovery, but now a mom in recovery, reminding myself that my recovery is his childhood and I hold that very sacred. 

I don’t want to know what life would have been like had I not survived, but most importantly, becoming the batwoman that I had called out to.