So my name is Abbie Stenberg and I'm a person in long-term recovery. What that
means for me is that I haven't found it necessary to use drugs or alcohol since
February 20th of 2013, and as a result, [audience erupts in applause]
and as a result, I live a life that is beyond my wildest dreams. I don't say
that for applause. or for recognition. I say it to let you know that recovery is
possible. That it's possible for anyone. That if it was possible for me, it's
possible for you. Sometimes I look around and I can't believe this is my life. You
know today is a huge day for me. I, I get to stand up here and share my story with
all of you, and then I get to go walk across another stage and receive my
first diploma.
[audience applauds]
Thank you. And when I tell you that that's a miracle, I don't say it because
you know I'm so proud of myself. I say it because it's a miracle that I'm alive
today. You know, my story is just like so many others. There are 23 million people
in this country living in recovery and, you know, there's probably a lot more who
don't even say that they are because of the stigma that's still attached to it,
you know. Some of my earliest memories growing up were of feeling different,
feeling like I wasn't the same as my siblings, like I wasn't the same as my
friends. I felt like there was something missing for me, and it was a hole inside
my heart that I spent a lot of years trying to fill. Some of my-I can remember
being a very young girl and just not feeling okay, not feeling like I fit in,
like, I, you know, I didn't feel comfortable in my own skin. To the point
where I can remember sitting on a computer chair, when I'm like 7 years old,
and just spinning and spinning in circles because the feelings inside me
were so scary that I wanted to feel something else. So I would do anything to
feel that. So it made a lot of sense that when my life took a really dark turn, and
my mental illness became too overwhelming, that I would turn to drugs
and alcohol. It was a very logical choice. It made a
lot of-it worked very well. You know, when I was 11 years old, my parents got
divorced, and it was like the scariest thing that had ever happened to
me, and my feelings were so hard to process that I didn't know what to do. So
I threw myself into sports. I threw myself into school. I was a good student.
I was an athlete. I love gymnastics and cheerleading and softball and, you know, I
was a sad kid. Beyond all that, still so sad. So when I was 14, I sustained,
sustained an injury in gymnastics that completely altered the course of my life.
You know, I was prescribed Vicodin for the first time and it was my first
exposure to a mind-altering substance, and I can remember taking it and
thinking, "This is how other people must feel. This is how other people must get
through life". Because, I felt okay. I felt normal. I felt like, you know, I could talk
to people. I could be in social situations and, you know, I immediately
decided that well if this works for, you know, feeling better then, I bet
smoking helps too. And, you know, I always tell this story because it's just
amazing how fast it happened for me. When I was 14, a freshman at Barrington High
School, I was Secretary of SADD, okay, Students Against Destructive Decisions.
And, they called me 'hugs not drugs girl', okay, and by the time I was 15 I was using drugs
every day, selling my prescriptions, barely going to school, failing my
classes. And then when I was 16, I was in residential treatment for my whole
junior year of high school. So that just tells you that, like, you know, this is a
disease. It's a brain disease, and it took hold of me so quickly,
in a such a scary, profound way, that um, you know, I needed help. And I got help.
And it was magical and it was amazing. I can remember, uh, being tricked into going
into treatment. I-I walked into the appointment and they told me I was gonna
be staying for a few months and I was terrified, completely had no idea what to
expect. I was kind of a sheltered kid, you know. So I walked in there and I meet
this girl. She comes to walking up to me. She says," Name, age, drug of choice, where
you from?" and I'm like, "Abbie, 16, weed, Barrington"? Like,
I don't know? And she's like, "What's up Abbie? My name is Katie and I'm from
Pawtucket and I smoke crack. Do you want to see pictures of my baby?" [laughs]
And I'm like oh my god--what happened? Where am I? What is this? And it was like,
this moment where I'm like, okay I'm not in Kansas anymore. And yet, I lived with
this girl for almost 11 months and found that while our stories were so
drastically different, what we felt inside was the same. We both felt that
void, that hole. We both were longing for something outside of ourselves that
could help us. And we found that that storytelling was so magical. It did
something for us. It made us feel like we weren't alone.
It made us feel like someone heard us, like we, we mattered, right. So I was in that
treatment program for a long time and I learned a lot. I learned about recovery
and about what it means to be in recovery. I learned about a whole
community of people and I didn't really think it was for me, you know. When I got
out, I had every intention of trying to do well trying
to go back to school and, you know, live my life and go to college, but I got out
and I didn't have that community support. I didn't have other people who were
trying to do the same thing I was doing. And by the time I got back into school,
back in the same environment I had left, I was using again before I knew it. My
trajectory then took a really bad turn. By the time I was 19 years old I was an
IV heroin addict, and all the scary things that come with that, you know. So
between the years of 18 and 22 were the darkest years of my life. I isolated
myself from my family. I was completely unreachable. They didn't know where I was
most of the time. My mother and her sleepless nights, you know. And I had
family who loved me and I knew that, but the pain that I felt inside was so great
that I didn't think I deserved their love. I didn't think I deserved to get
better. So, after a series of, you know, really difficult times in rehab,
in an out of detox all the time, I made a decision to change my life, and that came
after the death of my grandmother, that really completely destroyed me. It was a
really hard time. And, I didn't know where to go. I didn't know where to turn. I had
been to treatment; it didn't work. It didn't work because I didn't want it to
work. I had been, you know, to every facility in the state and what happened
was I didn't have anywhere to go. I was out of options. I walked into this
community center that someone told me, "They might be able to give you a bus
pass or, like, find a place for you to sleep tonight" And I had this glimmer of
hope, and I don't really know where that glimmer of hope came from. But I know
that it was just enough to get me through the door. So I walked in there,
and I dropped my bags, and I said, "I have nowhere to go, can you please help me?", and
those words completely changed my life. Being able to ask for help. Not being
ashamed of who I was. Not being ashamed of where I'd come from, or how I looked.
Because I looked a lot different than I do right now. And I-I was greeted with
this love and understanding and acceptance that I hadn't felt in a very
long time, after isolating myself. So, I met this guy who had this giant,
brilliant smile, and this huge personality, and he said,
"You know, kid, you never have to feel this way again". He told me he'd been in
recovery for 17 years himself and that he knew how I felt, and he wanted to help
me. And that completely changed my life. I immediately dedicated my life to this
recovery thing. I have been doing it ever since. So that place was called Anchor
Recovery Community Center, and his name was Jim Gillen and he saved my life.
Jimmy was this just, larger-than-life person. He passed away in 2015 from
cancer and we've been able to name a youth recovery center after him since
that. But, he didn't die before teaching me a thing or two about advocacy, and why
it's so important. By the time I had seven months in recovery, I had been
deeply ingrained in a recovery community. That was the turning point for me. That
was the recipe that I had been missing for so long--was other people who loved
me, who wanted nothing but to support me. It was amazing! They didn't want anything
from me. They just wanted to see me succeed. And Jimmy taught me to use my
voice. I have been, as my mother says, I have the gift of gab, and I have been
able to put it to good use, you know. So I started being a recovery advocate when I
had just seven months in recovery. My picture was plastered over the
Providence Journal. It was, like, a Sunday spread in the paper, I had no idea how
big it was going to be, but I took that leap of faith. I had the courage to try
and put the word out there, that recovery is possible. And the results of just
being vulnerable, and being able to share my story, it completely changed my life. I
um, you know, I share this story just to, kind of like, give you an idea of how
greatly it changed my life. So when I came in, I had destroyed my teeth from
using. I had been, like my smile was a mess. I talked like this. I didn't I
didn't laugh. I didn't smile. And it mentioned in the article in the paper
that I had, that this had happened to me, that, you know, it was a direct result of
using drugs. And I had a dentist reach out to me and she has completely
reconstructed my smile for free. [audience applauds] Literally like, this doesn't happen,
you know, it doesn't happen without-without people being vulnerable and
taking a chance and being brave, you know. Like, this is something that--storytelling,
it's what it's all about, is being vulnerable and letting someone else
connect with you, in a way that they wouldn't have been able to before. So I
became a recovery coach, which means that I get to use my lived experience to help
other people with theirs. It's an amazing job. I-I'm really sad to leave it but I'm
really excited to be joining the PeaceLove family, and I will still be able to
be the recovery advocate that I've become. You know, looking back at that
girl that I was, it literally blows my mind. I had to drive through my old
stomping grounds to get here today, and I saw some girls struggling on the side of
the road, and-and it hit me that, you know, that was me. It should have been me. I'm a
three-time overdose survivor. I've attempted suicide multiple times. I,
how am I here, you know? And I asked myself that a lot, but in reality I'm
here for all of you. I'm here to-to be a light for someone who might be
struggling. I'm here to share my story and to be vulnerable, and, you know, it has
just been such a magical journey, and I'm so excited to see where it's going to go.
I'm really just getting started, you know. I'm 28 years old, and I'm getting married
next year, and I'm graduating today, and, you know, it's just like, [audience applauds]
and it's all, and it's all because I was willing to be brave, and to be vulnerable,
and to share of myself with someone else, and that's how healing happens. It's how
people get well. And, you know, if you have a story, I urge you to share it. I urge
you to be brave. It is the most rewarding thing you will ever do and I feel so
blessed and fortunate to be able to do it every day. Thank you.
[Applause]