My Story of Survival
Hello, my name is Ashley and this is my recovery story.
At just 8 years old, the world stopped feeling safe. The person who hurt me wasn’t a stranger but a trusted family friend. After that, my childhood wasn’t really a childhood anymore. The weight of what happened left me searching for anything to make the pain go away. By the time I was 11, I found alcohol. It was easy to get, and for a little while, it made everything quiet. But the quiet never lasted.
Growing up, my relationship with my father was marked by abuse. His temper was unpredictable, and the fear he instilled in our home left deep emotional scars. Eventually, my mother found the courage to leave him, taking us with her to create a safer environment. After the separation, he stopped showing up for visits altogether.
I was left with a void I didn’t know how to fill, and I started looking for ways to escape the pain. By the time I was a teenager, I had fallen in with an older crowd, experimenting with weed and drinking. It wasn’t long before those moments of rebellion turned into a way of life. I began running away from home, seeking solace in the chaos and distractions that the streets offered.
My mum saw me slipping away and tried everything she could to save me. She got me into counseling, reached out to support programs, and even placed me in foster care, hoping a structured environment might help. But nothing seemed to work.
Finally, she made a tough decision. She decided we needed a fresh start, far away from the life we had in Ontario. In December 2006, we packed up and moved to Alberta. I thought maybe a fresh start could change things. Instead, my addictions grew with me. I was introduced to harder drugs, and at first, they scared me. But then they became just another way to run from the pain. The more I used, the more I felt like I was slipping away from who I was supposed to be.
In 2017, my world completely shattered when Child Family Services took away my young son, and the day I lost him to a Permanent Guardianship Order, it felt like my heart stopped. He was my whole world, and losing him left a hole so deep I didn’t think I’d ever fill it. Nothing seemed to numb the heartbreak. Not alcohol. Not the drugs I was already using.
That’s when I did the one thing I had sworn I would never do. Heroin. I’d always been terrified of it. I’d seen what it did to people, and I told myself I’d never go that far. But in the depths of my pain, I didn’t care anymore. I thought, If this can take away even a piece of what I’m feeling, then I’ll do it. And it worked—for a while. Heroin took the pain, the guilt, the memories, and shoved them all into a dark corner. But it also took everything else.
I lost pieces of myself I didn’t even know I could lose. Days turned into years, and the drugs became my life. Every day was about surviving, but surviving didn’t feel like living. I hated who I had become, but I didn’t know how to stop. And the longer it went on, the harder it felt to imagine a way out.
The turning point for me didn’t come all at once. It started with my younger children. After years of battling my addiction, I realized I wanted to be there for them in a way I hadn’t been able to for my oldest son. The guilt of not being able to raise him never left me. His life moved forward without me, and while I’ll always carry the love and longing for him, I’ve accepted that some doors can’t be reopened. He turns 10 in 2025, and not a day goes by that I don’t think of him. I hope he knows how deeply he’s loved, even from afar.
I knew that if I didn’t change, I could lose my younger children, too. I wanted to be their parent, not just in name but in action. I wanted to show them that even in the darkest moments, it’s possible to fight your way back. It wasn’t easy. Recovery never is. But every step forward, no matter how small, was a step toward healing. Toward becoming the person I wanted them to see.
Celebrating an Important Milestone
On November 15, 2024, I celebrated a milestone that once felt impossible: 9 months of sobriety from heroin. The last nine months have been the hardest, yet most rewarding, journey of my life. I’ve gone from a place of darkness and despair to living my best life, one filled with hope, love, and purpose.
My addiction led to painful consequences, including losing custody of my two beautiful children. My daughter, who will turn 4 soon, was placed in care when she was just 4 months old. My son, who turns 2 has been in care since birth. The weight of being apart from them pushed me to a breaking point—and also became the spark that lit the fire for my recovery.
In the last nine months, I turned my life around in ways I never thought possible. I fought hard to overcome my addiction and regain control of my future. I worked tirelessly to prove I was ready to be the parent my children deserve, even overturning a Permanent Guardianship Order. That was one of the proudest moments of my life. Today, I have full custody of both my son and daughter, and we’re thriving as a family in our own apartment.
Sobriety has given me back more than just my health—it’s given me a life worth living.
I’ve learned to take pride in the small victories and cherish every moment with my kids. My daughter and son remind me every day why I made the choice to stay sober.
In December, I’ll close my FEA (Family Enhancement Agreement), another huge step forward in rebuilding my life. Every achievement, big or small, has strengthened my resolve to keep moving forward.
Today I am living my best life & I will continue to thrive.
Now, with sobriety, full custody of my younger children, and a future I can finally dream about, I know this: Addiction doesn’t have to be the end. It’s part of my story, but it’s not the whole story. The pain that once consumed me now fuels my strength. And the love I have for all my children, including the one I couldn’t bring home, gives me hope for what’s to come.
I survived. And every day, I choose to keep surviving. To keep fighting. To keep living.
For anyone struggling with addiction, I want you to know that recovery is possible. It’s not easy, but it’s worth it. I’m living proof that with determination, support, and love, you can create a better future—for yourself and those you love.
We thank Ashley for sharing her recovery story – if you would like to connect with her about her experience, please email info@drugfreekidscanada.org
