Milestones and Freshstarts

 83 days clean and counting. Today my heart isn’t only fixed on my own recovery. It’s overflowing with love for a very special man who rarely hears enough praise — my 18-year-old son, Jordan. He is one of the most resilient souls I have ever known. He carries the hardest work ethic, the biggest heart, and an honesty that runs bone-deep—even though life has handed him some of the hardest lessons a person can endure. From the Very Beginning I knew from the moment Jordan was born how special he was. Even as a baby he was sharp. I’ll never forget the first time I heard his laugh. We were sitting in my grandma’s living room when this deep, rich sound rose from way down in his belly—like one of those pure baby laughs you hear in a commercial or as a phone ringtone. From that day forward he was the light of my life. When darkness came and I saw his father hurt him, I took all three of my boys and left. I promised I would never look back. Together we opened our own lawn service, and let me...

Today I am 67 days clean. Sixty-seven days of choosing this path even when it stretches me. I’m still in the safe sober living house, doing the work, and I started training as Shift Supervisor at a very well-known coffee house on June 29th. First real job since 2018. It feels big—scary and hopeful all at once. The New Job Training I’m still deep in training. The pace is fast, there’s a lot to learn, and my ADHD mind has to work extra hard to stay focused. Some moments I feel overwhelmed, but I keep showing up clean, on time, and ready to learn. It’s giving me healthy structure and a chance to build something new instead of falling back into old survival patterns. Grateful for the opportunity even on the hard days. Holding Steady Last night’s words from my youngest twin still sit with me—“I want to wait til you get out of treatment mama.” I’m carrying that as motivation. It’s not easy, but it brings peace. Proverbs 4:23 reminds me: “Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the...

If I am being completely honest, standing here today as a Shift Supervisor feels both terrifying and absolutely beautiful. The truth is, I haven’t held a traditional job since 2018. For years, my survival looked very different. I was trapped in a loop of prostituting and street hustling, always letting fear drag me back to the familiar chaos of the hustle. Every time things got hard, that old life whispered that it was the only way I could survive. But not this time. “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?” — Isaiah 43:18-19 Something shifted inside me. I finally realized that we are warrior women after God’s own heart, and I deserve a life that isn’t dictated by fear, survival, or numbing my pain. I look at the woman stepping into this new role today and I barely recognize the person I was just a short time ago. Today, I am trading the street hustle for a different kind of grind—one rooted in integrit...

Yesterday, two men were found dead under the bridge at Pawnee & Broadway in Wichita, KS. Overdoses. Gone. That was someone’s child. Someone’s father. Someone’s brother, uncle, cousin. They were somebody long before addiction took hold. They laughed, they dreamed, they were loved. And now they’re gone. It breaks my heart so bad. I know what that phone call feels like — the one where your family has to check and make sure the body they just heard about on the news isn’t yours. I put my own family through that fear more times than I can count. To every one of you I love who carried that weight because of me… I’m so sorry. It’s not a good feeling on either end. But hear me: you are still here. If you’re reading this and you’re still in it — still using, still hurting, still barely holding on — this is for you. We are all made in the image of the King of the Most High. That alone makes you someone. Addiction doesn’t get to rewrite that. The needle, the pipe, the bottle — none of it eras...

If I open this phone and type for three minutes straight without editing, filtering, or pretending, this is what spills out: “I miss him so much my chest physically hurts and I am angry that I had to leave to save myself. I am scared he will die before he gets clean and I am terrified that my prayers aren't enough, but I refuse to go back to that hell. My kids deserve a mother who is completely here, and I deserve a life that isn't dictated by methamphetamine and fear. God, please hold him because I can't, and please keep my feet planted right here on day 63 because I cannot afford to lose myself again.” AMEN Right now, my heart feels the heavy weight of Proverbs 4:23, which tells us,  "Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life."  Leaving him was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but guarding my heart is how I safeguard my life and my relationship with my children in the future. At 63 days clean, I look at the woman writing this bl...

Yesterday I laid out the raw truth — the diagnoses, the years of addiction, the children I lost, and the guilt that still takes my breath away. Today is about what recovery looks like in real time. It’s not pretty or polished. It’s one day at a time. I’m at 62 days clean and sober now. Some mornings I wake up feeling hopeful. Other mornings the weight of everything I’ve done hits me before my feet even touch the floor. ADHD makes it hard to stay consistent. Complex PTSD makes trust feel dangerous. Bipolar can pull me into darkness when I’m already grieving. But I’m showing up anyway. The hardest part right now is my boys. My twins are 18 and both want to graduate high school. They’ve already been through so much. But it’s my oldest twin who carries the deepest scars. He’s angry — rightfully so — and unforgiving, even while part of him seems to be forgiving. One day he says he wants me by his side. The next day he tells me he doesn’t want anything to do with me, that it’s all my fault. ...

I’m not going to clean this up. Not today. Day 2 is for facing what actually is. I live with ADHD that scatters my thoughts like wind through dry Kansas fields, Complex PTSD that wakes me with memories I’d rather bury, and Bipolar that swings harder than I want to admit. These aren’t trendy labels — they’re my daily reality. I attend outpatient therapy once a week for two hours focused on C-PTSD and addiction, plus monthly deep sessions with a Christian therapist. We dig into God’s truth even when I’m shaking. After twelve years clean from crack cocaine, I relapsed on methamphetamine. That choice cost me everything. I’ve stayed clean from crack since October 4, 2003 — on October 4 I’ll mark 23 years. My story is painful. I had my first baby at 12 and gave her up for adoption. At 14 I started methamphetamine, had a miscarriage, and ended up on the streets of Kansas City. I had daughters at 16 and 17. The state took them when I was 18 or 19. After that I started smoking crack and spirale...

My name is Lurie, and I am 60 days clean. If you told me two months ago that I would be sitting here today writing a recovery blog, I would have told you that you were crazy. For a long time, my life was defined by survival, chaos, and the heavy weight of addiction. I spent years in places where I didn’t feel safe—including living in a box truck with my boyfriend—just trying to make it to the next day. But right now, I am in a safe sober living house for women, and everything is changing. What 60 Days Means to Me Reaching 60 days means hope to me. It’s the first real light I’ve seen in years—the quiet belief that a different life is possible. For the first time, I’m not just surviving; I’m starting to feel like I belong here. My Biggest Challenge (and How I’m Overcoming It) The biggest challenge I had to overcome was slowing my ADHD brain down. My mind would race with cravings, shame, old memories, and a thousand “what ifs.” But I got through it by taking it one hour at a time, leaning...