From Torment to Triumph

Chapter 1

The Charge

On May 9th of 2016, I woke up at 5:15 am, extremely hungover. In an attempt to gain my composure, I grabbed what I thought was a glass of water from the fridge and guzzled it. It ended up that this was a glass full of vodka from the previous evening. I instantly realized it was vodka and tried to throw it up into the sink. I couldn’t, it made it’s warm way to my stomach. I proceeded to the shower to get ready to take London, who was now 12 years old to the bus stop. I’m a full blown alcoholic, so once I start drinking I am unable to stop. I wanted more alcohol. I drove London to the bus stop and dropped her off, I don’t recall anything after that.

My daughter was young, but old enough to know a mom shouldn’t drink like I was. I tried many times to quit and I would make promises to her and myself. The ones that addicts make like “I’ll only drink on the weekends” or “I’ll just have beer or wine.” None of that worked for me and I thought drinking made me a better mom, less stressed or more fun. I believed it helped me be more myself and talk to people a bit easier. That’s an understatement I suppose. When I would have a few drinks, I would call or text people and have no idea what we talked about or even what I said. It surely didn’t help that I was prescribed to Xanax and Ambien too. I used to call my grandma and just talk to her for hours and she would listen to me, just drunk and rambling. I’ve been in fights with my brothers and sisters not even aware of what it was about or what I said.

At 7 am, I left the house to take Thatcher to daycare. Someone called the police. It was 7:10 am and I was swerving in and out of traffic. The fire department maneuvered me off the road and called Alejando, my mom and my boss. I was arrested and taken to jail. I had absolutely no idea what happened from the time I took London to the bus stop. I woke up screaming for my kids, telling officers to release me, I needed to pick my kids up from school and daycare. I was screaming and banging on the cell doors.

While I was in jail, a DCF worker came to talk to me about what happened. I was still intoxicated and refused to talk to her. I was very belligerent, I wasn’t very cooperative, instead of calling my family to pick up my children, she called London's dad and Alejandro. This was the moment I believe I lost my children forever.

After about 9 days of being incarcerated, I gave my mom my banking information to my mom. My original bond was $250, but the judge said I was a danger to the community and increased it to $1,000. My blood alcohol content was a .298. I attended a hearing telephonically and had to give temporary custody of my kids to Daniel and Alejandro. I was devastated, emotional and unstable. I cried so hard and I couldn’t breathe, I remember talking to two of the officers telling and begging them to help me get out. I remember telling them everything and they told me how sorry they were. I thought for sure they had come across many mothers like myself who lose their kids during incarceration. From that day on, I changed and it was a very slow and dramatic change. I changed from a single mom of two, into a broken, abused, homeless drug addict and domestic violence victim. I couldn’t even recognize who I was looking at, that is when I had the courage to look at myself.

A no contact order was placed into effect against Thatcher. This meant I was to have no contact verbal or physical with him. He was known as the victim in my case. I was able to file a motion and have it dropped a few weeks after I was arrested. I got a public defender and my list of court dates seemed to never end. I had a public defender for my misdemeanor charge which was the DUI and I had to get a seperate attorney for my felony charge. It was a child neglect charge for my son being in the car. It was a horrible nightmare and I felt like nobody understood and it was painful. I was becoming more and more depressed and I didn’t know exactly how bad this would become and how out of control my life would be from this day on.

I decided to leave my home. I lived there for 5 years with my kids. I worked hard to live there, however the house was filled with memories of my kids and I couldn’t be there alone. I refused to get rid of any of their things. I couldn’t afford the rent and was about to get kicked out anyways. With all of the court dates, child support and bills that were piling up, staying with my sister was my best move. I liked having her kids around since I missed mine so much. This was a very hard time in my life, I remember locking myself in my moms bathroom and crying on the floor. My nephews and nieces would comfort me when they found me.

I was allowed only to see my kids in public places and with their fathers present. I just wanted to be around them, I really didn’t mind. I remember looking at my daughter and saying “mommy is doing a lot better now, you can come home when you want” London looked at me and said “I don’t want to come back, I want to stay with my dad.” I’ll never forget that moment. It changed me. I felt the physical pain of a broken heart.