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Women's Criminal Justice Summit: My story

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San Mateo County Women's Criminal Justice Summit Julie's Story   My name is Julie. I was born on March 20, 1959, in San Francisco. I was adopted on June 9, 1959 by Paul and Shirley. I am an only child. I need to say that my father had a drinking problem and at one point my mother wasn't sure about going through with the adoption, but her parents knew how much she wanted a child, they helped her anyway they could. I spent alot of time with my grandparents. My parents divorced when I was in the second grade. My grandfather died when I was seven. It was mom, grandma and me. We all helped each other out. Mom took on a couple of jobs and I cooked and cleaned around the house.   I have no brothers or sisters. I was raised around cousins. I can remember that at an early age I felt very disconnected. I never felt part of anything, an outsider looking in at the world passing me by. I was to feel this way for quite awhile and I found alcohol and drugs when I was 14. That first drink warmed my insides and I felt as though I had arrived. Unfortunately, I was to be off and running for the next few years. Uppers, downers and anything I could get my hands on went in my body. I could not stand how I felt. I was on a self destruct mode. My poor mom stood by and watched me slowly kill myself. I came home wasted all the time. High on cocaine and I couldn't sleep so I would take shots of alcohol in order to go to help, only to "come to" the next morning and need to do more drugs to be able to function. This rat race lasted a few years.   I bounced in and out of relationships. I thought that men would fix me too. Nothing was working. My drug use was off the hook. In 1983, I found out that I was pregnant. January 1, 1984 I gave birth to a little boy. I thought that my life would be okay. I still used drugs and shortly after found that I was pregnant again. God was giving me another chance. I again had a boy on May 9, 1985. I was married for a year and actually quit drugs and was dry for quite a few years. I had always known about recovery, but that was for people who were really bad. I had not arrived there (yet).   I went to some meetings to see how they were. It was okay. I never worked a recovery program though. I ran into someone I knew from grammer school and we started dating. A couple of months down the road I found myself pregnant. We had a daughter and she was born March 23, 1992. I would really like to say that I have been clean and soberer since, but that is not the case.   I had some troubles and went to the doctor. I was given vicodin. Oh my God, I was off and running. These pills awoke the addiction. The next thirteen years were to be filled with arrests, courtroom appearances, more arrests and more trouble. It was all about find the drugs, using the drugs and find more...there were never enough. Vicodin had brought me to my knees. It totally owned me. I did whatever it took to get more; I stole from neighbors, friends, family - if you had pills, I wanted them. I knew I was in trouble. I was broken mentally, emotionally and physically. I went to an outpatient program and cleaned up - sortof. My life at home was crumbling in front of me and I was incapable of stopping it. In 1998 I ended up going away to a 29-day spin-dry program. I stayed sober 30 days after that. For the next 8 years I was to run away to rehab. What I was running from was my troubles at home. I was running away from what I had become. My running away to rehabs allowed me to miss out on family events. My sons' confirmation and graduation were missed because I was unavailable. I missed out on a lot of things due to my drug use.   In 2002 I was to leave my husband and daughter to branch out on my own. The boys moved with me. I left my little girl behind because I was not mentally capable of doing battle with my husband. For the next year my mother was enabling me. She paid the rent and the bills. I was to get a job and my act together.   That didn't happen. Instead I went off the deep end. I began to use meth (speed). It got really bad. Years before I had been in an accident and the settlement had come in. I was to receive 55 thousand dollars. I was happy. I bought a car, my kids clothes, food, tattoos for the boys, limo for the prom, and alot of drugs...I turned into a skinny babbling freak. I couldn't put a whole sentence together. By this time the Millbrae Police department knew me by my first and last name. I was still trying to get clean. It was a terrible battle, one I was losing. The judge that I was appearing before had just about had enough of me and all my excuses of why I was testing dirty. I ended up in jail one weekend (it happened to be over the Mother's Day weekend). It was my first time actually doing days. I swore I would never go there again. By this time, my oldest son had left for the navy, Michael was doing his own thing, and I had turned back to my husband because it had been a "comfortable, unhealthy place" and he helped me get drugs. I stayed sober 5 months after getting out of jail. My husband and I both were getting evicted from our homes so we thought that moving into the same place would save money and we would be better parents to our daughter. That was the lie I was telling myself. I did find a job. I had been unemployable for years and finally someone was going to take a chance on me. Things happen for a reason. I started using vicodin again. I didn't like the way I was allowing my husband made me feel. I was feeling less than human so I thought "What the hell". The judge had it with my nonsense. The next courtroom appearance I had I was incarcerated. I was sentenced to Hope House. This was a six month residential treatment place. I was terrified. I couldn't go there. I had a job, a child and whatever else I could think of to get out of going to residential treatment. The gig was up. Not only did I have to go to residential treatment, but I was to go to jail for a week prior to treatment. The judge wanted me to be sober when I got there.   The week that I was in jail was the longest week of my life. All kinds of things were coming up. I was worried about life at home and how my daughter was. I learned quickly that there was nothing I could do about it. My husband had come into some money so I thought things would be okay. I was not to be home for the next 6 months. Hope House was to be my home. I went from an only child to having 16 sisters, young, old, tall, short. All different personalities. I was to learn alot. I was allowed to see my daughter every weekend. I treasured the visits. Hope House turned me from a drug addict to a lady. I learned so many things about myself, addiction, relationships (good ones and bad ones). While I was in the program some women decided to leave and while that made me sad, it strengthen my desire to remain sober no matter what. I went into Hope House on November 9, 2004 and emerged from my cocoon to a butterfly on May 9, 2005. There was some concern about me going home to the apartment where my husband was. I was determined that my life would be okay. I was going to stay sober. I went home and things seem to be okay at first. Then a few times I found drugs in the house. I began having that sick feeling in my stomach. By the time I found drugs on the third time, I told my husband he needed some help and had to leave. It was not safe for me to be around him. It was hard for me to do this for we had been in a sick relationship for 14 years. Hope House taught me courage and strength to stand up for what the right thing was.   My life has changed tremendously since Hope House. I have been at the same job for nearly 3 years. For the first time I stand on my own two feet. I have and am currently taking care of the wreckage of my financial past. I pay my bills on time. If I tell you that I will be somewhere I am there. I am dependable, responsible member of society today. The women of Hope House say that I am a role model. I thank them and tell them though that when I came to the house, I was DONE doing drugs. As painful as life may be, I would rather walk through the pain and come out on the other side, clean and sober, than to get loaded and try to bury the feelings.   I have gained the respect of family members. My daughter and I have an apartment. She does well in school and I am really blessed. She grew up at Hope House also. I have learned to face each day with enthusiasm and gratitude. Thank you Hope House.