It the

This is where my challenging journey began. In 2014, I was working in a marketing position while also being a wife, mother, & avid runner, surrounded by a wonderful group of friends. Everything in my life fit into my routine beautifully.

On a hot July afternoon, I felt dizzy & collapsed in the kitchen. I tried to stand up, but I couldn't. My attempts to speak resulted in jumbled words. My three daughters were at home, but they were too young to call for help. My husband, Zach, found me five hours later that night on our bedroom floor after returning from work. I was rushed to the ER, where the neurologist delivered shocking news: I had suffered a major stroke at just 27 years old. I was admitted to the ICU, where my brain continued to swell. Zach was presented with two options for my treatment: Option 1 was a craniotomy to relieve pressure in my brain, which could leave me in a vegetative state; Option 2 was to allow my brain to swell, leading to my death. During that time, Zach shared with me that I was surrounded by prayers from family, friends, coworkers, & prayer groups from various churches. Remarkably, the day before Zach had to make a decision about my treatment, the swelling in my brain stopped. Soon after, it began to decrease, & I awoke from the coma. Miraculously, I survived. 

I spent 10 days in the ICU & an additional two weeks in the hospital before being transferred to a medical rehabilitation facility for physical therapy. There, I had to relearn everything: how to speak, eat, walk, & shower—essentially, how to live again. After two months of intensive physical therapy, I was finally released to go home.

After completing the therapy, I continue to struggle with aphasia, which significantly affects my ability to communicate—expressing my thoughts & reading has become a challenge. Additionally, I still experience limited use of my right side, impacting my movements & balance. These challenges have taken away my ability to return to my previous job & have also ripped my favorite hobby, running, from my life.

Seizures & Isolation

Two years after my stroke, I began having seizures. What followed were multiple hospital stays & eventually, another month-long stay in medical rehab. Thankfully, the seizures were brought under control through medication & haven’t returned since.

Around that time, I began to realize something painful: I had likely reached the ceiling of my physical recovery. That realization hit hard.

My drinking, which had once been about enjoying the flavor & a bit of relaxation, started to shift. It became a way to numb the emotional pain & depression. Our finances were stretched thin, & hospital bills were piling up. Eventually, we lost our home in Spokane & moved to Cheney, WA in 2018.

Isolation—both physical & emotional—set in. I felt stuck in a cycle of self-pity that lasted for years.

By the summer of 2022, things had spiraled. I stopped caring about my appearance. My marriage was unraveling. My daughters were growing up without the mother they needed. I couldn’t work. I had become a functioning alcoholic. Mornings started with beer; by afternoon, I was drinking hard liquor. Every evening, by 6 p.m., I was passed out in bed.

Then came a warning I couldn’t ignore. My doctor told me my liver was showing signs of damage from the alcohol. I knew I was on a path to an early death if I didn’t stop drinking.

But at that point, I didn’t care.