Nine different—but powerful—words pierced through silent veins of addiction 

by Tina Cole-Mullins

(Editor’s Note: Faces of Addiction is a continuing series about people who experience drug addiction and the difficulty of recovery. By telling their stories, they hope to help others who are struggling and encourage them to seek treatment and healing.)

When you’re born into addiction, trauma isn’t just something that happens—it’s in the very air you breathe. For Allison, this was her reality.

Her father was an alcoholic. Her mother was addicted to drugs. Allison received no guidance, no love and no warnings.

“There was no one to say ‘drugs are dangerous’ or even, ‘we care,'” Allison said. “At 13, I tried to speak up, to ask for help, but my cries went unnoticed.”

That was when Allison began partying with weed and alcohol. By 14, she was offered cocaine in the backroom of a trailer.

“I just wanted to forget. I wanted to be numb,” she said.

At 17, someone she trusted sold her to a 29-year-old drug dealer to settle a debt. That betrayal deepened her trauma and crushed her soul. Within two years, she was using heroin, meth, OxyContin, Xanax, Klonopin—anything she could find. Three years in, she began injecting drugs and eventually learned to make meth herself. She lost her marriage and temporarily lost custody of her children.

Her turning point came on Oct. 7—now marking eight years of sobriety. But it didn’t begin with strength. It began with surrender.

“I wish I could say I did it alone, but I didn’t,” Allison said. “My son said nine words to me one day—words that pierced through the fog.”

The words were: “What’s wrong Mom, didn’t you get your drugs today?”

Two days later, Allison walked into treatment and never looked back.

Allison knows many people who have relapsed, including her sister, whom she hasn’t spoken to in three years. But Allison chose a different path—for her children, and for herself.

When asked about the role of mental health in her recovery, Allison was clear: “It was everything. Addiction isn’t just about the drugs—it’s about the pain underneath. You can’t heal if you don’t face the trauma.”

Therapy helped her unpack the years of buried hurt. Recovery, she says, isn’t just about sobriety—it’s about rebuilding identity and learning to love yourself again.

“The memories will always be there, but so will the love and support I’ve found,” she said.

Though sober, Allison still struggles with employment, transportation, homelessness and stability—reminders that her recovery is ongoing.

According to the Michigan Department of Health and Human Services (MDHHS), only 25% of meth users remain sober for a year without formal treatment. This is often due to stigma, untreated trauma and a lack of support. In contrast, more than 70% of those who engage in structured programs like therapy, peer support, and integrated care achieve lasting sobriety.

For those navigating recovery alone, success depends on building routines, managing triggers, and staying accountable through self-guided strategies. Creating a personal sober support system is key—but so is tapping into the broader culture of recovery, where shared stories, mutual encouragement, and community values help transform isolation into connection and survival into healing.

Revisiting Richard’s story

Richard’s descent wasn’t slow—it was seismic. One hit of meth, and everything changed. “It was only a matter of time before I was cooking anyplace I could…,” Richard said, in “Faces of Addiction, PART 2: Through the Eyes of the Incarcerated,” a story that appeared in SCN’s August 2018 edition. Within two years of his first use, Richard was incarcerated on a seven-year sentence.

“I will always be an addict,” he said in that story. “The only difference is if I’m using or not.”

Now, more than a decade out of incarceration, Richard is working, rebuilding his life, and talking sobriety. He’s also taken financial responsibility for his mother’s household as she battles major health issues.

Like Allison, Richard was confronted with nine piercing words: “Are you even serious about stopping using the sh–?”

His response: “Yes! I just don’t know how right now. It’s so hard trying to work full time, do everything at the house alone, take care of my mom’s stuff, and have time for a relationship. I don’t know how to get it all done without the energy of [the meth].”

Richard is rebuilding relationships once lost to addiction and addressing the trauma bonds behind them, such as with the person who asked those nine words. Trust is being rebuilt—slowly, but not impossibly.

Routine masks reality: Richard wakes up, goes to work, pays bills. But addiction doesn’t always disrupt—it can coexist with routine, quietly eroding resolve and relationships. Sobriety is conditional. He’s not incarcerated. He’s not in treatment. He’s not using it every day. But he’s not free either.

The cravings still whisper. The habits still linger. Addiction thrives in chaos and silence. Richard now speaks more openly about sobriety, questioning why he uses the meth at all. The chemical high does nothing. The process of seeking it is exhausting.

“I don’t think I’ll make it to 61 if I keep going like this,” he said.

The question isn’t whether he’s using—it’s whether he’s ready to stop. Sobriety is a daily choice, not a guarantee. Not all addicts get sober—it’s not about chance or luck. It’s about hard work and working the steps.

Author’s Note: If you’re in the dark right now—there is light. Recovery isn‘t perfect. It‘s messy, hard, and sometimes feels impossible. But it‘s worth it. You are worth it. Don‘t let your past define your future. Reach out. Ask for help. And if no one listens, keep speaking until someone does. You’re not alone. Healing is possible.

Resources for dual-focus treatment centers (addiction and mental health)

Henry Ford Behavioral Health, Washington Way, Jackson: Offers detox, outpatient, and residential programs. Integrates mental health care with addiction treatment. Contact: 517-205-4001;  henryford.com/locations/behavioral-health-washington-way

Hope House (men & women), Jonesville: Gender-specific residential programs addressing addiction and co-occurring disorders. Contact: 517-849-2333; mvabhs.com/contact/

Victory Clinical Services (VCS), Lansing: Specializes in opioid addiction treatment. Offers methadone maintenance, Suboxone, Vivitrol, counseling including group therapy and acupuncture detox. Contact: 517-394-7867 (Lansing); 517-784-2929 (Jackson); victoryclinic.com

Prevention & Training Services (PATS), Lansing: Provides outpatient treatment, relapse prevention, and assessments. Specialized programs for women and domestic violence survivors. Uses cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT) and Moral Reconation Therapy (MRT). Contact: 517-323-8149; patslansing.com/