Apr 2, 2014 | By Tim Stoddart

I Do Recover – A Story of Tragedy and Divine Intervention

Personal Addiction Recovery Stories

Unlike many addicts, I can not say I grew up in a dysfunctional home. For the most part of my childhood, I grew up in a 2 parent home, the oldest of 3 children. We lived in a upper-middle class neighborhood. We didn’t have everything we wanted but we had everything we needed. I had a huge extended family and spent a lot of time with my aunts, uncles, and cousins. Outwardly we looked like the All American family.

My first addiction was food. I recall seeing pictures as little as 3 months old and I was FAT! I know that growing up a fat child was not my fault. My parents were in control of the nutrients that came into our household. However, as an adult, it has been my responsibility to eat healthy. I failed at this for many years. However, nearly 2 years ago, a medical scare gave me the nudge I needed. I was 408 pounds. Today I have lost 80 pounds. I can’t attribute this to any diet or huge change in my life. I owe it all to accountability and a lot of prayer. By taking control of my health and being accountable I was responsible for the nutrients I put in my body. No more excuses.

Other than food, my next drug of choice is alcohol. I remember having my first drink when I was 4. My grandfather had bought over a lobster and a bottle of wine for my birthday. A tradition he kept ever year until he passed away when I was nearly 10. Even at 4, I loved the taste of alcohol. I loved the warm feeling that I got in my face. I also had a great uncle who was an alcoholic. I loved sitting on his lap and sipping his beer. At 13, I began dating a senior in high school. At 15, I was a mother and I was drinking daily. I stole from my parents to feed my addiction. I was neglectful to my son while in active addiction. I could not stop! There were times when I tried to get sober. I lost my son, still drank. I got arrested, still drank. I was kicked out of every home and school, lost the respect of my family and I still drank.

Alcohol made me careless and care free. Alcohol gave me a sense of security. I always had a man to love me for that night when alcohol was involved. Alcohol released my fears. I was brave enough to smoke pot, coke, heroin and meth. My “best” thinking while under the influence convinced me that it was ok to take 20 hits of LSD at one time. I thought I was dying. I probably could have.

And my love of drugs and alcohol led me to the arms of my ex-husband. Two young addicts, living together. What a recipe for disaster that was! I have to say, again, I am lucky to be alive! Beaten, held at gun point, choked, bitten, scratched and headbutted. I kept coming back for more. Reflecting on it now, I realized he was the only one that would enable my drunk, drugged, emotionally unstable life. By the grace of God, I got away. Only to find myself in the arms and beds of many men. Then a tragedy and coincidence changed my life.

The Tragedy: On October 31, 2002, I crept out of a domestic violence shelter that I was a frequent flier at. This was my 3^rd visit. I set out to party that day. I started at noon with a 12 pack of beer, a gram of pot and a bottle of trazadone. No husband, no son, no family.

Completely alone. That night I can honestly say that I could have cared less if I lived or died. I had the wonderful idea that night to go get my car. No insurance, no registration. I let my boy of the month drive that night. First stop, the Reservation for an 8 ball of coke. Then we were off to the store for another 12 pack. 17 trazadone, a case of beer, a half gram of coke, half a fifth of rum, smoking weed all day, it’s a miracle that combination didn’t kill me. But I managed to survive and with a 12 pack of Labatts tucked between my legs in the passenger seat of my 2002 Ford Taurus, I was ready to hit the next party. Only we never made it. The driver lost control of the car, racing another car, at 92 miles per hour. I was dragged under the car still strapped to my seat belt for 165 feet and the car flew off of a 10 foot ravine before pinning me between the car and a tree. I never lost consciousness. My leg was fileted from my ankle to my groin. My butt was sheered off. I was nearly torn in half.

I spent the next 35 days under going 32 surgeries. I was in a coma. My parents tell me that I had less then a 15% chance of surviving. My entire body swelled from an infection. The doctors thought I was going to be blind if I did survive. My leg was amputated. 70% of my body is a graph or donor site. I had a colostomy. During rehabilitation I had to learn to speak, write, and even feed myself again. After 35 days in a coma I woke up and I promised myself I would never use another drug again. I kept that promise.

Here’s the thing. Even though I was abstaining from drugs, I still very much was an addict. My life hadn’t changed very much. It didn’t take long and I was back to lying, stealing, manipulating. This time I was doing it for a food and shopping addiction. Now I was “Rhiannon (superlative) Mulverhill”. I was in a wheelchair and working. I was entitled to what I wanted, when I wanted it and most of the time I wanted it NOW. If you couldn’t indulge me, I had no room for you in my life. I lost everything once again. My job, my home, my car, all gone. I was miserable. I was losing it. I managed to work really hard to get all the “stuff” back, but there was still something missing.

The coincidence: In the course of the 8 years as a dry drunk, my son was falling deeply into his own addiction. I tried hiding it at first. Part of my own guild and shame, I suppose. In a fit of rage and under the influence, my son flipped me out of my wheelchair. I called the police. My heart was broken! Feeling helpless and hopeless, I called a friend. He suggested that I invite my son to an NA meeting. There was one that night at 7pm. So, I asked a friend of mine, a fellow addict, struggling, to come with me. In that meeting, I realized that I needed to be there for myself and that the only help I could be to my son was to pray. I was introduced to the word “powerlessness.” At the end of the meeting, I was invited back. I learned a lot! I learned that no matter how perfect I tried to be, God had control, not me. I was shown a diagram, a circle with the word “me” drawn in the middle. I was told that I was only in control of what was inside that circle. Everything else was beyond my control. I was introduced to the most important prayer for a person like me, the serenity prayer. I learned the phrase “Just for Today” and that if I lived by that mantra, I could deal with what was right in front of me. I didn’t have to stress about the future. I gained peace of mind. I learned that living in the past was guilt and shame and that living for tomorrow was anxiety and disappointment. I was told that “If I have one foot in today and one foot in tomorrow, then I was peeing all over today.” I learned that I was “Rhiannon superlative Mulverhill” because I was afraid. I was a self centered witch because I was afraid that if people really knew the real me, they wouldn’t like me. Truthfully, I was so consumed with guilt and shame I didn’t like myself. Narcotics Anonymous helped me get rid of all that guilt and all that shame. NA gave me the biggest tool and the greatest gift I ever had, “ACCEPTANCE.” I learned that there were 3 principals that could save me. Honesty-doing the right thing should sting a little, that’s how you know it’s the right thing. Open-mindedness-being willing to take the suggestions and having faith that my family in the fellowship would lead me to a life of recovery. Willingness-the desire to live a new way. Willing to own my mistakes and willing to let things go.

Another miracle happened when I made the decision to move to Pulaski. As I was moving, I drove by this big white church with a playground. It was less than 1/2 a mile from our new place. The first week that we were all settled, Aryeonna and I checked out the church. I immediately fell in love! The fellowship is amazing. A group of people doing God’s work. Living the same spiritual principles that I learned in the rooms of Narcotics Anonymous. Our first service was about the book of Matthew, the life of a scoundrel, turned over to Christ. It spoke to my heart! This winter I was baptized. I can honestly tell you that I felt so close to God that day. The same closeness that I felt the night of my accident. Now I feel his presence in my life daily and it feels amazing! I have also been blessed with bringing Christ into the lives of my children. What a wonderful responsibility!

Today my life is not perfect but I sleep good. I have healthy people in my life who love just “Rhiannon” I am accountable. I am blessed.