After eight jail visits, four rehabs, one sober house attempt, IOP’s, hospitals, etc., I found myself crying, detoxing, sleep deprived, living out of my car, and unable to get high anymore; no longer capable of living the life I was living. There seemed no way out. Parked outside of my mom’s house at 1 o’clock in the morning, I was begging her to let me come in so I could have a bed to sleep in. Begging her to just sit with me and hold me in her arms like she once did when I was a kid, a place I remember that was so warm and safe in comparison to the dark, bitter, and cold place of my life I ended up in. She refused to let me in to her house and rightfully so; she also refused to come talk to me, to come sit with me and hug me. She wanted nothing to do with me. I called my sister and made the same request, she said no. I wasn’t a brother to her anymore; I was a burden. At this point there was only one option left to me and that was to end this pitiful excuse of a life… but I couldn’t do it. “What do I do?” I asked myself repeatedly over and over again, screaming to something that could have been out there “WHAT DO I DO!” That was the longest most terrifying night of my life.The next day I ended up on the front door of a sober living house owned by Mr. Cadoux (A fellow co-worker of mine now and dear friend here at TLR) I had tried this sobriety deal before I thought to myself, ‘why would it work for me?’ I hadn’t ever really tried. I stood on this front door step a desperate 19 year-old having suffered from a serious ass whopping from drugs and alcohol and had nothing left to lose.The next two weeks were spent detoxing, shadowing a recovery coach every single place he went to, going to CA and AA meetings, going to court for pending cases, UA’s, breathalyzers, looking for a job; no one thought I was going to make it. Quite frankly I wasn’t so sure of myself either, but I was content each night with having a home to go to at the end of the day and a bed to sleep in. This quickly became not enough. I was miserable. Being clean and miserable is not a very fun place to be in; being sober and miserable is a terrifying place to be in. Lying awake that night, I prayed. I prayed to something and asked for courage, I asked for bravery, I asked for motivation to do something different than I had ever done before. The next morning I woke up early, I went to the noon meeting I had been going to for a few days now and met a woman named Revette. We did not appear to be a likely match; Revette was a 50 year- old heavy set black woman that smoked crack for 30 years (longer than I had been alive) and had been sober for 13 long ass years. I listened to her, she spoke in a way and with a tone that I could pay attention to. All I ever wanted in this deal was to stop getting what I had always got, and in turn, something like what this woman had. She has been a light to me in the world of utter misery that I had come from. With her guiding me through the steps that were laid at my feet this whole time, some pretty miraculous things started to happen.Throughout the last year and a half I’ve obtained my GED, I’ve gone to school to get my substance abuse counseling degree, and I’m allowed back at my mom’s house. The first time I was invited to her house I would knock on the door and wait for her to answer. One of the coolest experiences I’ve had was 6 months into this deal my mom answered the door and told me I didn’t need to knock anymore, that I could just come on in. My sister calls me every week asking how I’m doing and for my advice on things going on in her life. I have a bank account with money in it! I’ve met some people in my life that are like brothers to me, real life-long friends. I stayed in sober living for over a year and recently moved into an apartment with a brother in recovery. I have a girlfriend that is perfect in my eyes, someone I can love dearly today, knowing there was a time when I couldn’t even love myself. Sounds like good stuff, right?I have a job that I can’t wait to go back to each day at The Last Resort. It’s a job where I get to be that same light at the end of the tunnel that others were for me. I choose to believe in a God of my own understanding. I’m incredibly grateful for the path that was laid before me and the path that I was able to put my feet on and start moving. Without any of this I don’t know where I would be but it most definitely wouldn’t be sitting here writing my story.- Tyler A. (Tech at The Last Resort)