Most people think of Christmas as a joyful, happy time. Not me. All I ever felt was sadness. Christmas reminded me that I couldn’t provide for my kids, that I was a failure and a hopeless addict, and that no one cared. In fact, no one had ever cared. Not when I was molested as a child. Not when I struggled in school. Not when I started
drinking and smoking at 15 . . . because I felt so worthless. So, if no one else cared, why should I?
I was 18 the first time I got arrested, and that started a 12-year cycle of sobriety, relapse, homelessness, seedy hotels, and jail. I had my first child at 20, but I lost custody of him to my mother. I chose drugs over everything else because whenever I was sober, the despair