The addiction that made me value sobriety

It was just a typical night, not much on my mind but getting out away from my lonely life. I was always out and about with people in the same ship as myself sailing away from reality. I may not have all the story right; it's been quite some time, but one thing I will never forget is the look in his eyes when he told me to give it a try. I smiled and chuckled " you got jokes this isnt my first rodeo but thanks" As I inhaled and then exhaled, saying, "thanks," passing the one thing that was deteriorating my life already 1 year in the process, that was only the beginning of the next 3 years.

A connection began to grow; he enjoyed my attitude, and I was attracted to what he had to offer. I was at a friend of a friend's house that seemed how it worked in that lifestyle everyone knew eachother eventually or at least associated themselves with someone who knew the other.

I had just gotten out of my relationship that was not bad compared to my past DV relationships. Our relationship seemed healthy until it was over with no healing whatsoever. I managed to show no infliction even though inside, I was bitter and unraveling. The ones who already knew me from one of my exes still decided to joke they called me Little Lisa or Tink, just depending on who it was. I was fearless as I put myself in dangerous situations. The components that helped me achieve the drive to my addiction were gaining, competition, and never feeling alone at the moment, along with the adrenaline. My nicknames were given to me when I was first introduced to the escape life, being wild and feeling free at age 13.

Little Lisa was the first nickname when I lived in the mountains past Evergreen, where I grew up for four years. Late-night sneaking out down to the trailers for a party where I would evolve into the corruption of drinking with others who were more than a few years older than me, along with experimenting with other substances. It is disturbing to say that wasn't my first rodeo either though unfortunately just my first one where I actually pursued the party. 11 years old was the first time I was introduced to the devil's playground. Then it took heartbreak for me to realize I was more comfortable feeling nothing at all than feeling anything.

I would experiment with what altered my mind most of the time, besides when I went to my grandma's during the summer. Still, once I got a little older to stay with my sister at age 12, that feeling of not consuming was not an issue. I loved my sister, but over time she began to become my worst enemy. Then she left to where she would be better off running from her addiction in another state with a married man she dreaded. She made a sacrifice that was best for her kids in the end.

Fast forward to where I was on that typical night I had mentioned, the beginning of the deterioration of my life for the next 3 years already 1 year in. I believed I had it all figured out I wasn't on probation anymore for the DUI I got when I was 19. I managed to overcome my alcoholic ways and leave my abusive exes along with my other addictions. I was single again, young, and no one had control over me or, therefore, let anyone. I had a job, so money wasn't an issue, and I had a vehicle, neither was transportation. I was an asset to the man who decided to taunt me. I was his ride to and from his connections, and as I was his asset, he was my gain due to the supply, and it became a competition and adrenaline as I got more involved. I began to feel meaning again in my life besides just getting high alone in my bathroom with no one to know but the one who supplied. I realized I wasn't alone and didn't need to hide it anymore, and I was able to socially interact with people on the same level.

Little did I know I just got strapped in on a rollercoaster ride to chaos. It was not long before going home to get high alone was not ideal. I eventually began to be gone for days to months on end. There was no more lying awake in my bed; instead, I was driving around all night or staying up at someone's house or hotel past sunrise. Eventually, there needed to be a change, a better supply, and different people, but as I mentioned in that lifestyle, everyone tends to know someone you know. The other people I managed to meet due to the events from location to location were around 150. All of them had my number reason why I know this because the day I went home to try and change my ways on my own after being out for about 6 months, I erased 150 contacts and 50 messages from people I barely even knew, just from the drug acquainting us.

Due to the extent of addiction I had been in, that was something I was not capable of at the time to quit that easily. I was triggered to leave home again, and this time, I would be gone for about a year with only stopping by when no one was home to quickly shower, get clothes. Within that 1 year, I witnessed overdoses, was a victim of assault, was almost kidnapped, and encountered traumatizing events that you would think only existed in movies except without the theatrics and dramatizing actors or actresses. I saved a life who later would lose his life during a relapse 2 years later. I lost my job then would discover I needed to go home, and I wanted help.

I managed to stay at home for days in absolute agony till I had left again. Then I would be gone again with more frequent visits to my house, though. This time, I was going to be drugged with the one thing I never had an interest in, and that was the same addiction I had lost people to and was capable of making your heart stop within seconds of consumption if not careful. I was going to be robbed and fooled, not feeling so courageous but helpless. The ship I was sailing away from reality 2 years ago had turned into me sinking, barely keeping my head above water.

I was lured in, and the people were not social but demanded compliance and were far more dangerous than I knew. I escaped back home with no car, no job, and nothing left but withdrawal and nightmares. I ended up suppressing all of the events by being compulsive and getting into another relationship with someone I once had a crush on when I was 16 when we didn't do the stuff we did today. Funny how paths cross again due to a substance and type of lifestyle. I had gone back home in the realization I was pregnant. The guy I was pregnant with was on his way to rehab, and I decided I needed help. I confessed to my parents on fathers day about my addiction leaving my pregnancy out, and they had no idea what to say; besides, "I'll be fine; I just need to get back to work." They had no idea that my small cry for help, followed by me chugging multiple mimosas, was not a joke. My parents had not even the slightest idea what I was into, but neither did they when I was a teenager. My parents couldnt help me when I was a teenager or then at that moment. That's for another story but for a brief overview of what I meant by that. When I was 12, my mom had put me in therapy after finding my journal and discovering I was cutting myself and smoking. Treatment didn't work, and in the last session, right before my 13th birthday, my therapist told me I pray for you. My therapist knew a child such as myself was going nowhere fast except on a dark path. I played it off, and my parents couldnt keep up to stop my nonsense when I was young, so I have no idea what made me think to ask them for help being a grown adult. I lost the pregnancy and almost my life a few nights later due to blood loss, but no one knew, just me myself, and I was in my room for days on end felt as if I couldnt move due to withdrawal. I chopped my hair and wanted to end it all. I didn't have the strength to accomplish a shower successfully without wanting to fall over, let alone take my life.

Weeks later, my father had no idea what was going on, just assumed I was on drugs and a bum throwing my life away at home, not working as he began to yell, and that was all it took. I was gone; the guy I had lost the pregnancy with was out of rehab and wanted nothing to do with me, and he didn't manage to stay sober as I discovered when I picked up supply. He was trying to hide that he had been back already and back at the pipe. After I picked up, I got in my car and didn't look back half a tank of gas music blasting by Lily Wood and Robin Schulz remix Prayer in C, losing all focus of living as tears poured. I began to drive faster on the highway, not knowing where I was going. I felt every emotion possible, the heartbreak, the trauma that occurred, guilt towards myself, and most of all, pathetic loneliness. I was lost; I was a fool, and I let the drug take control of my life to the extent to where the medicine suppressing everything was my life. I had not been high for 2 weeks, still withdrawing and hadn't touched my supply, but I knew that's what I needed to make the pain stop but so tired of the sanity and the toxic lifestyle of thinking everything was alright being blinded by a drug I wish I never knew.

Before I knew it, I was going 90 if not higher, with no recognition of how I got to where I was coming up on a Semi truck, and all I thought was just do it end it all right now. My gas light was on, and I was in the middle of a desert town far from my home. As I got closer began to see my life flash before my eyes; as the tire flaps touched the tip end of my hood, I swerved as my phone rang and pulled off the road. It was another soon-to-be enemy in my life. At the time, he was a companion in a brotherly way who I thought gave a damn who actually respected me; little did I know it was all an act of a corrupt man who eventually lost all due to the drug as well. I sucked up all the pain and explained I was lost with no gas to get back. The only thing I had was a camera in my backseat, which he was trying to sell, and my ex, the guy who just did me wrong, his ex-wife's wedding ring surprisingly in my glove box. Little did I know who I was on the phone with put it there. I was able to make it back after finding a pawn shop and getting enough for gas. I got back and went right back to it because I had company, and someone good at manipulating me made sure he would get all he could from me. Going forward, he turned me into his pet for his dangerous games of being a thief, and I was dumb enough to think it was ok. Being left at a man's house who was lacing my supply with what could have killed me. I was blessed to catch on another woman he was holding captive there as his girlfriend told me to get out while I could, and I ended up running out while he went downstairs to the basement. After that night, I was back to just sleeping in my car alone but not for long before I met a new crowd. As far as the girl, she ended up getting out later in life as I ran into her again at another person's house.

We didn't connect because I didn't associate myself with females, just a brief conversation. Because of what the last female did in that game, I made a promise never again would I allow another female to backstab me. As I mentioned before, everyone eventually meets, and truth from the same female who betrayed me never trust a J*****. Who we were in that lifestyle. The type of people we were, we had no feeling till the high wore off if we let it, by then it would be too late, and the damage would be done, no remorse all we wanted was the high it was our survival to stay alive. This new crowd was not as wild; we kept it safer, and they were around my age, if not younger. An ex began to come back around asking me for rides, and then it started my subsequent trial, except this time I would be able to see what it was like attempting sobriety with someone else I actually used to know since I was 16. The first few days, we slept, and once we woke up, we were starving. I made us some food, and we stayed with my parents. Which didn't last long; my father knew it was no good, and we got kicked out. I became homeless, living in my car until my mom convinced my father to let us return. She began worrying about me, and I don't know what really changed, but unfortunately then but fortunately now, he left me by the time we got back to my place. I stayed home and decided it would be time but not without making one last mistake that would literally be the one that would put an end to my madness and save my life. I got an instant message from an acquaintance who had a deal, and I wasn't even looking for the high but revenge on a dangerous man she was setting up was the same one who attempted to kidnap me and then later on in life ended up traf******* me. It was unrealistic to think I would be successful at the task I had planned. Little did I know God had plans for me that saved my life that night.

I went to go pick up the acquaintance from the greyhound. She was with another man and put a bunch of stuff in my car. I did not know she had nowhere to stay, so I ended up finding her a place to stay at another homie's and picked up my other friend along the way. All the while, she was communicating with the man she was supposedly going to set up for a significant amount, and I was planning on intercepting with my own venges she was unaware of. She relied on me to get the stuff she didn't have, so I dropped her off at the homies and was on my way to another connect who was aware of the plan I had in mind, unfortunately. However, he had his own plan to go against the acquaintance who actually owed him alot of money. As I had mentioned in the life of addiction, it is a small world. Now I was driving around stuck in a mess and still sober. I didn't want anything terrible to happen to the acquaintance, so I tried to stop going back to get her. While she was setting me up, she had given my number to a man to meet up with, which was not the same one we had planned on setting up.

At this point, I was paranoid and began to become overwhelmed, but it was already too late; the large amount was already in my vehicle, and my connect started getting upset with me. We planned to meet to deliver as soon as we sensed something was not right. It couldnt of been more correct with helicopters and dogs and guns pointed in my face as I sit in the driver's seat with the car on and getting ready to drive away. I had my friend in the passenger unconscious from the H***** and then the other two in the back yelling at me to grab the weight and eat it or take off. Tears began occurring as I could feel every single emotion. I was not high, and as I went for the keys to turn off the car, I heard the gun behind me getting ready to fire as he pulled it back and, at the same time, the dogs barking and the officers yelling. I thought that was it, I would be dead, and it was too late for me.

Then one of the men from the backseat who didn't have the gun made a run for it. Then the officers rushed in after taking him to the ground and dragged me out of the vehicle along with my friend in the passenger who was still unaware of what was happening, so they called an ambulance for him right away. That was the beginning to the end of a nightmare. It wasn't going to get easier after that, either not anytime soon. I had alot of dues to pay, and it was going to start after that night. I messed up that night hard, and I was so scared about what was to come. Labor day weekend 2015 would be the weekend my mom realized what I meant back on fathers day. My father would disown me entirely if it wasn't for my mother. Also, be the weekend where I didn't get only in danger myself but family as well. I was considered a snitch who really was just someone who got set up by a CI, a confidential informant, so she could protect herself. I knew the cartel was untouchable, so it was apparent how naive I was.

My blessing in disguise saved my life that night even though, at the time, I didn't view it that way. I was afraid and knew I had gotten too far in the devil's game to think I was just going to get an escape out without a fight. I had no memory of anyone's phone number as I sat in the cell till it was time to take me to the big jail where booking time came for the general population. By the time I had gotten into the general population, I was delusional from no sleep, and my fight or flight was through the roof after sitting in a holding cell that smelled like piss and feces enclosed with 18 other women. By the time I got in the cell with the bunkie, I had just laid down with my eyes wide. She was the first to talk, calling me a newbie asking me, "what did I do?". I did not respond, then she jumped down off the last bar on the ladder. I get it, but whatever you did, I can tell it's nothing compared to myself." So I imagine you got nothing to worry about." as she went over to the toilet. She looked at me and laughed told me, "your H*** as F*** either that or possessed you by chance bring any in." I sat up and told her I had not smoked in weeks. She gave me a strange look and told me, " You got two options in here you learn, or you keep to yourself and get well; let's just say most of the people who keep to themselves don't end in the best situations unless they are known around here. I looked at her as she took two steps over to the steel sink by the barely open steel door. The sink had hardly any pressure to the water and no temperature knobs, just a button such as the ones similar to the older drinking fountains.

I began to mumble, " I don't know what I have to worry about yet, but I know it's nothing good." She laughed, "well, no sh** that's why you here, but if you didn't k*** or r*** anyone, you wouldn't be here long, and if it is your first offense, you will be out in no time." I responded with a question asking her how long she had been here and when she replied, I began to think twice. She began to get back on her bunk. "I'm killing the rest of my time here with 6 months left of a 6-year prison sentence counting down the days" She pointed to the wall with the tallies made by her pencil. I didn't even bother to ask what she did as the officers came around; as the doors shut, it was nighttime, and I had no idea what time, but she asked, "how long were you in holding." I responded, "I don't know, just know I got arrested at night, and if it's night again, I assume a day or two." She laughed, "ya, you must be flying. You here now get ready for the comedown," as I could hear her rollover from the top bunk. As I lay there, I don't even recall if I slept just knew I had a long road ahead and had to figure out my next steps to take to survive not only in there but once I got out to the outside. Finally, the morning arrived, waking up from a brief sleep to an officer hitting his baton near our door that was open all the way. He yelled, " get up; breakfast won't last all day" I sat up and felt as if I got hit by a train " I'm good" The officer did not take well to the response as he stepped in and told me this is not a vacation " get up an that's not an option. Once I got up, I saw the line of other inmates; some had the same color scrubs I did. Others were different as I wondered what it all meant. Another girl began screaming inside her cell, assuming she didn't want to get up just like myself, but it wasn't long before the officer made her change her tone. I went to stand in line and got pushed to the back as I did not care because I had no appetite. The girl who shared the cell with me brushed by me with her tray; as I took a glimpse, she whispered, " eat now; lunch is worse." I got a tray and sat at the same table as my cellmate at the same tell with people wearing red and blue scrubs. The girl in the red was pregnant, and the ones in blue were alot older. I offered the girl in red my milk an bread she looked at me an said you dont have to I told her I know but figure for it to not be wasted. The other girl in the blue not my cellmate looked at me an said what you think being nice with her will help you in here just becasue shes pregnat doesnt mean shit shes in red for assaulting a officer. I looked at her an said hope the baby will be ok as I ignored the other. The girl in blue who I was trying to avoid conflict with stood up pushing the table in to me as I jumped back standing up. My cell mate stayed seated " why the f*** you got to be starting sh** so early trying to get us all in lockdown." She backed up telling me " if you in here long, better start recognizing where you sit. I was confused and more concerned about the pregnant chick than myself and just told her, " I dont want no trouble Im just here to do my time an be done." She laughed " Homegirl look where you at, if you didnt want no trouble you wouldnt be here. She walked away toward the stairs that led to the second floor where her cell was well atleast what I assumed was her cell. The cellmate looked at me an said " welcome newbie, welcome as she began to walk away to put away her tray. I decided to sit back down and have a conversation with the girl I gave my food to. She was kind. Her story was so wild. I felt alot of pain in her back story. She was pregnant and going to be delivering her baby in jail. I was afraid of her. I wanted to help her, and it was right then I felt a feeling that was not hurt but strength, and it was my passion to be able to attempt to help others, but that would soon put me in dangerous situations. My cellmate and I finally had a conversation. She was in there for ending 2 people who r**** her since the victims were also criminals with a background she believed that is why she got off with 6 years for self-defense.

Her story inspired how brave she was, and she wasn't much taller or bigger than me. She was a young woman but a fierce one. I managed to remember a phone number after writing numbers over 100 times with a dull pencil and a scrap piece of paper during my time. The number was my mom's, and when she answered, I heard alot of hurt in her voice as my father yelled in the background. She began crying, telling me, "Why do I have to be the way I am whats going to happen to you." She would hardly let me speak as her words and hurt began to bring tears to my eyes. She had been looking for me, called every hospital and jail, and just found out where I was 1 day ago and was told she wouldn't be able to see me, just had to wait for me to call her. My father didn't want anything to do with me. My mom begged my father, " Shes my only daughter an she needs our help." My time was running up, and there was not much of a conversation just ended with her telling me, " Damn you you better be there an not running off once your released you are coming home." I hung up the phone and cut off the time that was my only phone call for free. That night in my cell, I had cried in silence, just saying sorry over and over till I fell asleep. When the time came for my first court hearing, my cellmate wished me luck before walking to the door.I was chained up hands and feet with other cellmates in a single file as we walked and went through multiple doors and one elevator with wires all around it. Then I was put in a holding cell that separated us all. Thankfully, the cell didn't smell, but I met my first threat, who knew of me and knew what I was in for. I didn't know her at all. Even if I did, I wouldn't have been able to remember. She pressed up to the wall with her back leaning in to whisper. You know what you got to do right. I felt chills, and I moved away to look at her face and told her, " You dont even know me" Then she explained, "I dont think you realize where your at right now do you want it to just go down right here." I swore she was bluffing till she wasn't " Snitch," She yelled, this woman right here is snitch setting up ***** ." I backed up an said you dont even know the story. she didnt care " I didn't ask you for a story just know my man is one holding cell over a bunch of others who will be there when you take your plea today and more in here. " you really dont know who you F**** with did you" Tension began to get high, and there was no way out or a way to call for help. Another inmate who was just getting off a prison sentence and getting ready to be released shouted, " yall Mo*****F***** I know you are not starting shit to delay me of getting out this B**** you all can wait till I leave for all that." Thankfully, she was my saving grace because I was before her, and moments later, I was called back into a line with other inmates. Still, the same one who had a gun to the back of my head the night I got arrested was 5 people behind me along with his other homie 3 others down.

We walked to the courtroom as I prayed my parents would not be there due to the danger. Noone was there for me besides those I didn't know who counted on me to plead guilty. I just wanted out of jail, the deal was to plead not guilty for that to happen that night, so I did, and that was that I went back to the general population joined my cellmate, getting ready to pack up my things. I was ready to be out after a long 5-6 days. It was dark by the time I was released, and I had no clue where I would go or what to expect. the doors opened, and as I breathed fresh air, I spun around and felt a ton of relief till I came back to my senses, remembering what that girl had told me while I was in the holding before the court. I put on my jacket and put it over my head more so I wasn't as noticeable and ran through the parking lot to the street. I began to walk down the side of the busy road more relaxed due to how dark it wasn't noticeable, I assumed till a car that was driving by the turn around in a hurry after passing me, and once I realized I was being followed, I ran again in panic. I began to hear my mom's voice yelling my name. I stopped; they pulled to the side for me to hop in. When I got in, I was still frantic and told my dad, " Drive drive." "Whats wrong with you," he said in frustration. My mom began to cry, " Your coming home an not leaving till your better I threw away all your pipes an everything that related to drugs. I cant believe you would do this to us." My dad added, "a adult an we are still having to take care of you an get you out of jail only difference is your not a minor anymore so its your debt now alot different in there with the big boys huh maybe you will learn your lesson." I had nothing to say an that made my mom and dad more upset " why are you so ungrateful an mean do you even care." We finally got home after a long drive, and I went straight to my room. I had no idea what to say and just fell in my bed in tears. My mom came in and shouted, " Well you going to say anything tell me what happened." I began to grow a relationship with my parents during my recovery to the best I could.

I was not off the hook that easy, though, and there was a number in return for me, and of course, with me being vulnerable and naive, I fell into some traps. I managed to get away and get back home safe, all besides one, and that was with my previous ex, who I had known off and on since I was 16. I mentioned earlier who ended up leaving me after being homeless with him. He came to stay with me at my parent's house for a little bit. He came back around, and I didn't think anything of it because I had feelings for him still. I managed to get my car out of the impound and was back to driving and went to pick him up; we spent a few days together on relapse, and even though the relapse was short-lived, I wasn't going to be ready for the withdraw. Till he told me the truth of his plan. He looked at me from the passenger's side and said, "You know there is a number out on you an well I had a job to do." I began to become afraid, thinking of what I would do in defense. He told me, " Look at me when im talking to you, well truth is I want out an can only do that if I have a ride or die an get away together have a child an start over." " So what you say." I was looking at him in his eyes and was in some weird way in love with what he had to say. I had never heard such things and was surprised it was from him. I did become his ride or die, and it came with a price I couldnt keep paying, and before I knew it, he was gone again after weeks. I let down my parents, and this time I had to keep it all to myself. The withdraw was so intense it sent me into the hospital but little did I know it wasn't the withdrawal. I was pregnant, and honestly, I couldnt believe it because of my last miscarriage; I was secretly taking birth control with my ex. I was pregnant, and all the pain was not just my withdraw but the baby actually growing. I made the quickest 180. I got a full-time job at the casinos and began making good money working 40+. I got myself in therapy and began alot of self-care.

I had a recovery journal, and I did what I could to change my life. I began to become close with the lord and read the bible. I was so scared, but I was determined to be a good mother. My ex was far gone and denied the child was his, and I did see him a few more times while I was pregnant, and it felt good kicking him out of my car after he disrespected me when I picked him up for the last time. My pregnancy gave me confidence, and I loved every bit of it. My charges were not easily dismissed, though, and after being sober a pregnant for 7 months, it was time to come to a conviction. After fighting the case, the public defender could not get the DA to budge anymore. It was time for my conviction. I was getting ready to check out from Burlington, and my public defender called with the news of me having to go back to jail for 60 days and serve 3 years probation after receiving the felony for distribution. If I didn't take that deal, it would be up to the judge, which could be 4- 6 years in prison. I was lost once again, feeling at rock bottom and terrified going back knowing I was pregnant. I went to work that day to let them know I would have to be gone for some time due to the circumstances, and they fired me that same day. I was in tears as I went to go get my stuff; the HR stopped me and told me I was too delirious to be driving, and I needed to calm down first for my own safety. I didn't listen as I took off, but HR was right. I was delirious, and I was driving down that canyon road back home. I wanted to end it all right there to drive off the cliff into the streaming cold river to take me away. I stopped, pulled over, sat in my car, still in the canyon where I couldnt get any service, and prayed. 3 hours later, I finally began driving again, and when I got home, I wrote in my journal and created a self-help plan for myself on getting prepared for days to come for myself, my son, who was going to be born in 3 months. The day came, and before I went to turn myself in, I enjoyed my last decent meal and shower along with a cold bottle of water and a ton of fruit. Turning myself into jail after being sober for almost 6 months and 7 months pregnant was the hardest thing I ever had to do. The metal door opened after waiting for hours in the lobby, and the officer came out to handcuff my hands and feet, and through the wired doors, I went back to booking and was not put in with a bunch of other women but a holding cell of my own that was freezing and smelled awful. I don't know how but I managed to fall asleep on the hard cement, and when I woke up, I became frantic. I began banging on the door, feeling as if they had forgotten about me. I began to cry as no one came. I began yelling till finally, an officer opened. He looked at me confused, and I asked, " can I please get a blanket an what time it was" He asked me, " Whats your name? an what you in here for?". I began to believe that they did forget about mean; it was alot later than I thought " My names Lisa Lisa Aragon." He handed me an itchy blanket and shut the door without answering my second question about the time. I held on to my stomach as I could feel tightness. I wrapped up as good as I could in that blanket and wept there, wishing I would never put myself through this chaos. I didn't know then if I was going to make it, but now I know I did make it. I survived that hell I never thought was possible. It wasn't meant to be in my best interest but to make me who I am today. The lord was watching me while the devil had me by the hand, and he was watching over me in there as well, and it was up to me how I would respond going forward to the events that were going to happen. My fight or flight was triggered from the moment I walked through those doors, and I had to remember just because I was sober and pregnant, I could not show weakness in the general population; I had to put my emotions aside.

There were plans for me alright awaiting from the lord, and the components of the devil's game tried to interfere, and they almost won me back, but that's for another chapter to explain. Today as I sit here writing my story to inspire and encourage, I want you to know If I can get out, you can too, and you are not alone. Took me 6 years and not without relapse 4 years ago, but I made it back and have been taking it one day at a time, wanting to make a difference in this life, and little by little, I do feel the difference of the impact I have been able to make. Thank you, and the 2nd edition will be posted eventually. Still, for now, I leave you with this. If I can be a part of the 2% who recovered, so can you. We have two keys in this life. The one to escape, the one to heal, just depends on what door you're ready to open next. The escape from a toxic environment is the want to recover and leads to another healing door; the escape from the feeling of wanting to stick with what's familiar will just lead to another escape door. Take care and know you are valued and worthy for all you do.