When I walked into Recovery Café’s new location this past February, I knew I had found a safe place to heal. The building was bright, beautiful, colorful and surrounded by windows, which was very good for someone suffering from depression. I started showing up every day.

"I once had a wonderful life. I had a good job, a good husband, and two wonderful children. The American dream, right?  Not quite.

For most of my childhood I was abused by one of my parents. I had buried those wounds deep inside. But when my mother became ill with cancer and I discovered my husband was cheating on me, I slipped into a deep, dark hole of depression. I started drinking alcohol to go to sleep and eventually I needed stronger and stronger drugs to even get out of bed in the morning.

Eventually the unthinkable happened. My children were taken from me by their father. To cope with what I now know was severe clinical depression, my drug use spun out of control.

I became homeless, wandering the streets, putting myself at risk of rape and murder and not caring whether I lived or died. Eventually, I found myself sleeping in the alley at the intersection of Third and Bell. I was the walking dead. For a total of three years it was like living in hell.

I heard on the streets about a place called Recovery Café. The first few times I visited it was hard for me to receive the kindness the community offered me because I felt so unworthy. I had grown up believing that nothing I did would be good enough, that I was worthless and without value.

When I walked into Recovery Café’s new location this past February, I knew I had found a safe place to heal. The building was bright, beautiful, colorful and surrounded by windows, which was very good for someone suffering from depression. I started showing up every day.

For the first few months I volunteered in the kitchen, took a class in the School for Recovery, and participated in a Recovery Circle, which is a loving accountability group. I slowly began to believe that what I contributed to the community had value and was appreciated. I began to trust a handful of people.

I continued taking classes in the School for Recovery, participating in my Recovery Circle, growing and healing more each day. Eventually I was asked to take on leadership roles in the community. I began to feel I had a purpose and that my life mattered to this community.

Now I am co-facilitator of a class in the School for Recovery. I lead a Recovery Circle for women and will be teaching a class in the winter quarter called “Affirmations.” In that class I will help others embrace the positive in themselves.

I now have the joy of participating in every dimension of my children’s lives, including my 16-year-old daughter’s most recent search for a homecoming gown.

Even though I am now on prescribed medication for depression, I still have some dark days. The physical beauty of the Café and the love and support of the community get me through my worst days.

I have no way to express my gratitude for those who helped to create Recovery Café. I will never be able to repay you for the healing you made possible in my life. But I will continue to give back to the Café by offering my gifts to those coming along behind me who may be stuck in that deep, dark hole I was once in."