Hope P.’s Story

• 2026: More Than a Cup

Which Valley Hope location did you attend?

Valley Hope of Atchison

When is your sobriety birthday?

March 23, 2024

Is there anything else about your Valley Hope Cup or your recovery journey that you'd like to share?

When I came to Valley Hope, I was like a dead shriveled tree made of parched, bone-dry branches. I wasn’t dead - but prior to arriving - I had spent 5 days in bed hoping that was where I was headed. I didn’t have the energy or the desire to eat or drink. I think I may have had some cereal in the 5 days time that I laid there. In between sleeping and crying, I spent most of my time praying to my deceased mom and grandparents. Pleading with them with all my might to come and get me and take me home to wherever they were. My life had become so dark that I couldn’t see a way out other than dying… and that’s exactly what I wanted….but the nights kept turning to day and still I was there. I think toward the end - as a last resort - I may have called out to God. I must have, because even though I didn’t know it at the time, that’s who inevitably answered. Addiction was a part of my family before I even came into the world. My father and my mother were alcoholics/addicts and had run off to Texas when they found out about me. My father and his family didn’t want her to continue with the pregnancy. They both eventually returned home - separately - and my mother (secretly) became a young mom at the age of 17. I don’t know much about the first few years, but I know my mother continued to struggle with addiction. I spent a couple years of my early childhood living with my aunt and uncle and then went to live with my grandparents. I was blessed to have had so many amazing and wonderful people to take care of me, but I desperately wanted my mom. She was in and out of my life, but most of the time that I got to spend with her ended up being scary and traumatic and my grandparents would most often have to come and get me and take me back home. I remember always feeling so excited to go with her and then devastated because each time I ended up disappointed. I couldn’t understand why she didn’t want to get her life together and be with me.. I assumed it was my fault and that something was wrong with me… That I needed to be better or different to make her love me. I think this is when I started “masking”. I started stuffing all of my feelings way down into a secret hiding place. I worked hard to be fun and happy and I tried to be what I thought would be a more appealing “me”. My father finally came back into the picture when I was around 8 or 9, but by then, I had already developed significant insecurity and abandonment issues stemming from my absentee parents. By the end of grade school, my mom had decided to try and get her life together (again). She was pregnant and had decided to get married. I finally got to go and live with her and I was as happy as I could be. She was clean for a span - during which my 2 brothers were born. However, she had married a volatile, abusive man and we lived with a ticking time-bomb. Eventually they both started drinking again and I spent most of middle school afraid, but trying to defend my mother and brothers from his wrath. This was when I started to develop my own addiction and a new mask. I found out that alcohol could not only hide all of my secret insecurities but it helped me fit in socially - something I had always struggled with. It made it easier to be that fun/happy person that I thought people wanted to be around and it also gave me the courage to fight back my persistent fear. By the time I was in high school, my family was well aware of the chaos in our home. My mom eventually divorced and even though she was around, she wasn’t really there. When she wasn’t at the bar, she spent most days drinking from morning to night. Our house was often a party and I and my friends were included - along with the strange men - who always showed up. By the time I was 17, I was snorting my first line of coke with my mom and one of her “friends". I had officially moved on to drugs and another mask - rebellion and indifference. I was often the caretaker for my younger brothers, but this became tiresome, as I had plans of my own. One day I told my oldest brother to call his dad to come get them and I left to go to band practice. My mom was arrested for child endangerment. Once again, she vowed to try and clean up. She moved to be with my grandparents and I was left to finish the last year of high school on my own. At first it was fun to play house, but I quickly realized that like so many times before, I had been left alone. I married soon after high school and decided I was going to have a different life. I couldn’t wait to start a family of my own that would love me the way I always wanted to be loved. I was blessed with a daughter and soon after, a son. Both of whom I loved with all my heart. However, my brokenness and insecurities were still present below the surface and despite my efforts, I ended up a single mother. I tried to be a good mom, but it was hard and eventually I went back to my tried and true friends - alcohol and drugs - to get me through my single life. I found the next partner who I thought might be the one who could love me the way I wanted and needed to be loved. I added another sweet baby girl to my beloved family. Unfortunately, my new marriage ended up becoming dramatic and often abusive. I didn’t want another “failure”, but that’s what it became. I tried to stick it out and I numbed the pain the only way I knew how to. Then my mother died…and eventually I was single again. I swallowed the pain of my loss and my failures and I tried to go on. I still had family that loved me. My aunt and uncle and my grandparents who had always been there for me. I had 3 kids that needed me, but it was hard. I fell in and out of fruitless relationships and I was always left alone and disappointed. So I drank and did drugs, as often as I could. The older my kids got, the more I did. I had become my mom...and for the first time in my life, I understood why she was an addict. I understood how hard it must have been for her. I could relate. Then I lost my grandpa (Pa) - the one person in the world who I knew I could always lean on…and I was devastated. I could barely breathe, but yet I had to stay strong. I still had kids that were relying on me! So more and more drugs...more and more violent ugly relationships. I knew it was out of control, so I took my youngest daughter and moved to Lawrence. I hated leaving my son, but he had a good job and was in a relationship and I was desperate. I knew that eventually we could convince him to move too - and he did. I truly thought that a fresh start (closer to my oldest daughter and my grandson) would help me get my life together. However, I was already too far gone - I just didn’t realize it yet. I tried to get it together, but it was hard….and I was sad...and I was lonely. I got a DUI and things got even harder. I was a mess but I didn’t want to admit it. I lost my new job and then shortly after, I lost my grandma (Gram). MORE LOSS. I couldn’t take anymore. So we moved yet again, to Kansas City and for several years, I just tried to keep going. By this time, even my youngest had a life of her own so I vowed to have as much fun as I could. I drank and casually slept around in my free time. I didn’t even realize how calloused and selfish I had become. The only thing I considered fun was drinking and drugs. I didn’t realize that I was hurting anyone, I was only thinking of taking away my own pain...but it was lonely. So I decided to try another relationship. Yet again, I chose wrong. I was done with feelings. I was constantly numbing at this point - barely eating and barely sleeping - and I lost yet another job. I didn’t just lose my job, this time I was losing everything. I no longer had a place to live and I was forced to move to my aunt and uncles house in Salina - away from my kids - the ones I thought I could never lose. I didn’t feel like they even cared. The truth is, they just couldn’t watch what I had become. I was DONE with feelings. I was done starting over. I was just done. I was fully consumed by this disease and enshrouded by a thick mask of despair. I had nothing left to live for. I didn’t feel that anyone really cared about me or missed me. I didn’t want my kids to feel the pain of losing a parent, but I was in so much pain, that I just couldn’t take anymore. I was slowly but somewhat intentionally killing myself. I drank and smoked meth daily for 3 years until my mind finally broke. I was literally hallucinating and didn’t know what was real anymore. So I laid down in my bed and prepared to die...but it didn’t happen. My family convinced me to go to the doctor. I don’t know why I went. I guess I was just scared. The obvious cause of my mental state was diagnosed. The truth was out - there was no more hiding. I went back to bed and waited. For 3 more days I prayed to be taken away and still death had not come. My family finally convinced me to get help and at that point, I didn’t have anything left to try. My life was truly over. Everyone knew what I had become and there was no coming back from this… at least that’s what I thought. Then I walked into Valley Hope and everything changed. There was a higher power there. I felt compassion, caring and a gentleness that I didn’t expect. I had become something disgusting and ugly and I didn’t deserve to be treated so well. That’s what I thought…but God was there and He said otherwise. I didn’t realize what was happening at first, but it suddenly became very clear one day when I went to Chapel and heard His Word. “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest…”. There was a God and He had called me there. He had answered me when I laid in my bed crying out for mercy. In the days that followed, He used the people in those rooms to show me a different way. He showed me acceptance, forgiveness, gratitude and so much more. Through them, he started creating something new. That’s the story of my cup - By God’s grace and the people at Valley Hope, I started peeling back the layers of my masks. I began to open up and let go of some of the pain that I had been carrying for so long. I started turning my life around by fully relying on God (FROG). It’s taken time to get through some of the layers. Over 2 years later, I’m still getting to know my true self and learning to feel my feelings sober. It’s not always been easy (another whole story in itself) and at times my insecurity and abandonment issues have tried to creep back in, but I know now that I’m not alone. He will never leave me or forsake me. He is still working on me, and I am growing new roots in Him. CLEAN and SOBER.