I never thought I would have a life beyond my wildest dreams, let alone one worth living. I was once a using addict with a chip on my shoulder, convinced the world owed me something. Heroin became my escape, instantaneous gratification. My addiction began in 2013. I spent years driving between Levittown, Pennsylvania and home on Route 95 in my old Chevrolet Cavalier. Rehab did not work for me. I needed something powerful, a “nuclear blast” the Basic Text talks about, but it did not come until about three years later. My reasons for using drugs don't matter. I learned that I am responsible only for my recovery, not my disease. In 2014, I moved back to New Jersey and started attending fellowship meetings. I broke the rule about relationships in early recovery and met my son’s father in a meeting. Shortly thereafter, he became my Higher Power. I gave birth to our son in 2016. Thirteen months later on March 14, 2017, my life changed forever when his father died from an overdose. I have never been the same. Since that day, I haven't touched a drug and consider myself a member of the “No Matter What” club. Recovery is replacing old habits and behaviors with positive ones. Recovery means hanging on and not using come Hell or High Water, until a crisis passes. I now live each day with gratitude, committed to growing and creating a future that honors his memory.