I had a great childhood. My parents never insisted that I be anyone other than myself. They never forced me to attend certain schools, or pursue a career of their choosing. They were a bit too overprotective—probably for a good reason—but other than that I was as free as a bird. The sky was the limit! In a sense.

Our family lived a quiet and simple life, and that’s all that I knew life to be. Nowadays I refer to it as having grown up in a bubble, but it was a very SAFE bubble. Their primary concern was that I finish high school, enjoy my youth, stay out of trouble, and one day be a happy, honest and responsible woman of integrity, just as they taught me to be.

So what was the problem? What stopped me from reaching for the moon?

I never learned self-confidence, and I was afraid.

The drinking started as fun. You know… teenage parties at night. Things like that. But I LOVED the way it gave me courage and that false sense of confidence.

With my tendency to always be in a HURRY, I left school before my senior year and began working full time at sixteen. I was pregnant at age twenty, married at twenty-three, and by age twenty-six I gave birth to my third son.

I drank and used drugs for years, almost daily, with my husband right there with me. I’d like to say that his addictions were far worse than mine, but maybe that’s not fair. I WILL say that he had an aggressive personality; lied compulsively; and was controlling and manipulative.

I didn’t believe in God, so I never really feared going to hell… but then again, I didn’t need to.

Hell had made its way to earth and was coming for ME.

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