By: Erica, SafeHouse Graduate, Business Owner, Pastry Chef and Public Speaker
On March 19, 2011, I was arrested and charged with my second DUI. By that time, I was so deep in my addiction that most people would have considered me a lost cause. I remember very clearly being handcuffed to the hospital bed. The humiliation and disgust I felt with myself had hit its peak. I would be transported to jail shortly after and be left to sit in that cold isolated room to reflect on everything.
That day started out like any other for me. I woke up on the couch with a splitting headache and I only needed to roll over and reach down to the floor to grab my bottle of vodka to take the edge off. The shaking and the searing pain would end as soon as I poured that first shot. I had to go on a date with a guy that I had met at the strip club I had been working at, so I got up and got ready. I filled my empty Mountain Dew bottle to the top with vodka, got into the car and headed out for burritos. He asked if I wanted to grab a drink at the Beach Chalet afterward, and so I got back into the car and drove across the city to meet him. When the sun began to set, I had to head out. I had an appointment with a client and then I was to drive to Oakland to pick up my boyfriend from the airport. By this time, I was getting to the point of having a blackout. I remember bits and pieces of the evening, but can’t recall the details. I don't remember getting lost in Oakland Hills or driving on the freeway. I remember being in the hospital, but I don't remember getting arrested or doing a field sobriety test. But in the end, I didn't need to remember those things, I think it's better that I don’t. I was already such a terrible mess and had been so depressed that any more flashbacks added to the memory bank could have surely put me over the suicidal edge rather than just the brink of it.
When I left Alameda County Jail the following morning, I knew something had to change. I had been looking into rehab for a while and was convinced I’d never be able to afford it. My friends and my boyfriend were certain I wasn’t an alcoholic and didn’t need to go, but I knew differently. My mom, my step dad, and most of my close relatives all suffered from addiction of one kind or another. I had known for a long time that I needed help, but I just couldn’t bring myself to take that leap. Alcohol was the one thing that kept me from going insane. It was the one thing that made all of the pain go away.
I had a few friends in the AA community six months prior to this debacle and I had actually attempted and sustained sobriety for four months before my inevitable relapse. I called on a few of those friends to help me get into a program. A local treatment center was my first stop. For eight months, I suffered through the detox, I took the classes, I met with my therapist and my case manager, and I hated every minute of it. I wanted to be sober, but I didn’t like the process of getting there. During my stay, the treatment center had a big move. They sent the women to a new location and turned the location I was currently in, into a co-ed center with a detox. It was a much smaller facility, so unsurprisingly, they made an announcement that anyone with six months or more time there had to move out of the house and hopefully into a transitional living situation.
The first time I walked into Safe House, I knew it was the right place for me. They only bring in up to 10 women, and the atmosphere was inviting as well as the staff. It was difficult initially because after being at the treatment center for eight months, I had to start over. It was very hard to get me out of bed or to get me to participate in the scheduled activities. I was still very depressed. I remember having a fight with my roommate the first few weeks I was there and cutting myself while hiding under the kitchen table. That was the last time I’ve done that.
After a couple of months adjusting and making friends, things started to get a little bit better for me. I reached a point that I was able to start looking for work again, and with the help of SafeHouse, I found a job at a local chocolate company. I spent three years at Dandelion, and during my time there was promoted multiple times and given equity in the company. Had I not been given the guidance or the support, I may have never gotten that opportunity. I also had a very tumultuous relationship with my mother and the rest of my family, which with the support of the staff, I was able to make smart decisions that eventually led to reconciliation.
I could go on and on about the stories and the situations and give examples of all of the many different times that someone at Safe House made a difference in my life, but ultimately, what really had the most profound effect on me is the undeniable and extreme amount of belief they had in me. I remember the first time I sat down with Glenda during one of our financial meetings. I told her about my dream to build a pastry business that employs women in difficult situations; one that would help them build their resume and get them back to functioning in society. She never once shot down my dream or my ideas. She truly and honestly believed in me and so did the rest of the staff. That dream is still alive today and is moving forward. It may be happening slowly, but it’s definitely happening. I don’t know that I’d still be as motivated or even would have ever started the process had I not had so many people standing behind me and supporting me the way they did.
Today, I am 5 years 7 months and 5 days sober. Even after my graduation, SafeHouse has continued to provide support to me when I need it. I have a dream to give back to SafeHouse one day. I hope to be a part of the amazing force that does so much to change every life that walks through that door. I have faced some of the most difficult challenges life can throw your way over the last couple of years and had it not been for this wonderful place, I might just be waking up and reaching for that bottle of vodka right now.
By: Erica, SafeHouse Graduate, Business Owner, Pastry Chef and Public Speaker
On March 19, 2011, I was arrested and charged with my second DUI. By that time, I was so deep in my addiction that most people would have considered me a lost cause. I remember very clearly being handcuffed to the hospital bed. The humiliation and disgust I felt with myself had hit its peak. I would be transported to jail shortly after and be left to sit in that cold isolated room to reflect on everything.
That day started out like any other for me. I woke up on the couch with a splitting headache and I only needed to roll over and reach down to the floor to grab my bottle of vodka to take the edge off. The shaking and the searing pain would end as soon as I poured that first shot. I had to go on a date with a guy that I had met at the strip club I had been working at, so I got up and got ready. I filled my empty Mountain Dew bottle to the top with vodka, got into the car and headed out for burritos. He asked if I wanted to grab a drink at the Beach Chalet afterward, and so I got back into the car and drove across the city to meet him. When the sun began to set, I had to head out. I had an appointment with a client and then I was to drive to Oakland to pick up my boyfriend from the airport. By this time, I was getting to the point of having a blackout. I remember bits and pieces of the evening, but can’t recall the details. I don't remember getting lost in Oakland Hills or driving on the freeway. I remember being in the hospital, but I don't remember getting arrested or doing a field sobriety test. But in the end, I didn't need to remember those things, I think it's better that I don’t. I was already such a terrible mess and had been so depressed that any more flashbacks added to the memory bank could have surely put me over the suicidal edge rather than just the brink of it.
When I left Alameda County Jail the following morning, I knew something had to change. I had been looking into rehab for a while and was convinced I’d never be able to afford it. My friends and my boyfriend were certain I wasn’t an alcoholic and didn’t need to go, but I knew differently. My mom, my step dad, and most of my close relatives all suffered from addiction of one kind or another. I had known for a long time that I needed help, but I just couldn’t bring myself to take that leap. Alcohol was the one thing that kept me from going insane. It was the one thing that made all of the pain go away.
I had a few friends in the AA community six months prior to this debacle and I had actually attempted and sustained sobriety for four months before my inevitable relapse. I called on a few of those friends to help me get into a program. A local treatment center was my first stop. For eight months, I suffered through the detox, I took the classes, I met with my therapist and my case manager, and I hated every minute of it. I wanted to be sober, but I didn’t like the process of getting there. During my stay, the treatment center had a big move. They sent the women to a new location and turned the location I was currently in, into a co-ed center with a detox. It was a much smaller facility, so unsurprisingly, they made an announcement that anyone with six months or more time there had to move out of the house and hopefully into a transitional living situation.
The first time I walked into Safe House, I knew it was the right place for me. They only bring in up to 10 women, and the atmosphere was inviting as well as the staff. It was difficult initially because after being at the treatment center for eight months, I had to start over. It was very hard to get me out of bed or to get me to participate in the scheduled activities. I was still very depressed. I remember having a fight with my roommate the first few weeks I was there and cutting myself while hiding under the kitchen table. That was the last time I’ve done that.
After a couple of months adjusting and making friends, things started to get a little bit better for me. I reached a point that I was able to start looking for work again, and with the help of SafeHouse, I found a job at a local chocolate company. I spent three years at Dandelion, and during my time there was promoted multiple times and given equity in the company. Had I not been given the guidance or the support, I may have never gotten that opportunity. I also had a very tumultuous relationship with my mother and the rest of my family, which with the support of the staff, I was able to make smart decisions that eventually led to reconciliation.
I could go on and on about the stories and the situations and give examples of all of the many different times that someone at Safe House made a difference in my life, but ultimately, what really had the most profound effect on me is the undeniable and extreme amount of belief they had in me. I remember the first time I sat down with Glenda during one of our financial meetings. I told her about my dream to build a pastry business that employs women in difficult situations; one that would help them build their resume and get them back to functioning in society. She never once shot down my dream or my ideas. She truly and honestly believed in me and so did the rest of the staff. That dream is still alive today and is moving forward. It may be happening slowly, but it’s definitely happening. I don’t know that I’d still be as motivated or even would have ever started the process had I not had so many people standing behind me and supporting me the way they did.
Today, I am 5 years 7 months and 5 days sober. Even after my graduation, SafeHouse has continued to provide support to me when I need it. I have a dream to give back to SafeHouse one day. I hope to be a part of the amazing force that does so much to change every life that walks through that door. I have faced some of the most difficult challenges life can throw your way over the last couple of years and had it not been for this wonderful place, I might just be waking up and reaching for that bottle of vodka right now.