Life quickly spiraled out of control, leading to CPS removing us from our home. We were placed in the Children’s Receiving Home of Sacramento and eventually split up. My younger brother and I stayed together, but I lost track of the others.

Foster care was rough. I bounced between homes, struggling with anger, depression, and attachment issues. One foster mom, who also took in my sister, was amazing, but I was too young and troubled to appreciate it. I spent time in multiple group homes. Despite everything, I managed to graduate from a special education school in San Francisco.

At 19, I moved back to Sacramento, living in adult housing while drinking and smoking weed. My older brother took me in, and soon I was caught up in the party life—drinking, doing ecstasy, blacking out, and ending up in hospitals. Eventually, I moved back in with my aunt, thinking my addiction was just normal youth behavior.

I had a son, got a job, but my drinking only got worse. Jail became routine. Then, four years later, I found crystal meth—and my life unraveled. I was stealing, running wild with my brother and cousin, and completely neglecting my son and family. I got clean for five years, working and staying off hard drugs, but eventually fell back in. I lost job after job, home after home, and my son had to witness my downward spiral firsthand.

By the time COVID hit, I was a full-blown alcoholic and addict, living on the streets, completely lost. In 2021, I got a DUI. In 2022, a burglary charge. None of it woke me up. Then, my younger brother—my best friend, the one who had been with me through every foster home—died from a fentanyl overdose. I lost my mind, hated God, blamed myself, and tried to destroy everything, including myself.

After a year of self-destruction, something changed. God spoke to me: Make a call for help, or die. I searched for rehabs and found one. It was the best decision of my life. They helped me process my childhood trauma, my brother’s death, and my addiction. After 30 days, I had a choice—go home or go to sober living. I chose change.

That’s when I found CSTL. This place became more than just a home—it became my family. They taught me responsibility, boundaries, leadership, and how to be a better person. They supported me through my struggles, grief, and growth. Today, I am sober. I serve as a secretary at an AA meeting. I have rebuilt relationships with my family and get to show up for my son, nieces, and nephews.

My sobriety date is February 7, 2024—a year and a month clean. CSTL and this community saved my life. I’m grateful beyond words. If you’re struggling and want a chance at a new life, CSTL Madhouse is a place that will have your back.

Thank you for hearing my story. Thank you, Don Troutman, Nick, Lindsey, Robert, David, and everyone at CSTL. Thank you to the residents who make this place what it is. Because of you all, I no longer have to drink or use. Today, I live with integrity. Today, I have a future. And above all, today, I have God.