September is National Recovery Month. And that has a special meaning for me.
At the age of 25, I was homeless, hopeless, and addicted to drugs. That wasn’t the life I had envisioned for myself or the one that I expected. I’d grown up in a loving middle class household in the foothills of North Carolina, where I played travel soccer, danced competitively, graduated with honors, and was voted “most likely to be remembered” in high school. Next came marriage, raising a family, and a successful career teaching dance. But then life went off course… read the full article.
