Milestones and Freshstarts

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...