All I ever wanted to be was a mother... that’s why if you had told me that one day I would receive a knock at my door and D.C.J. would be on the other side – I would have never believed you. I was told my child was at risk. Domestic violence, drug use in the home, driving under the influence with child in the car, and neglect. All I could think was, how could this be my story? How did this happen? 

I wasn’t like everyone else at school. I didn’t dabble in anything. I’d grown up surrounded by addicts and I was determined that I would not end up that way. I’m a 31 year old female and I didn’t touch a substance until I was 27. But when my son died, everything changed. 

In the beginning, I hid it really well. My daughter was always dressed in the best clothes. The house was always clean. Dinner was on the table every night. As time went on, I told people I’d lost so much weight because I was struggling with anxiety and stress. I’d only forgotten my daughters lunch because I was ‘so busy’ with work. I looked so tired because she was going through a ‘sleep regression.’ But I lived in a small town. It didn’t take long for people to catch on. My neighbours could hear and see us screaming at each other. The cars coming and going late at night. The long sleeved clothing in Summer. And eventually, the police and the ambulance’s occasional visits down the driveway. 

I’d packed his clothes and threw them on the lawn, more than once. I’d ran away to my mothers more times than I could count. The rent was late. Later than late. The car was repossessed. My little girl was eating stale biscuits and cheese directly from the block. IF there was food in the house. I never said no to her. There was no such thing as bedtime. And if there was, it was only so we could use. The small business we had was a joke. We either didn’t turn up for work at all, or we’d turn up high and argue in front of customers. I put everything off. Everything. My daughters 18month needles were well and truly over due and my doctor sent letters to remind me. Eventually the guilt and paranoia got too much and so I took her to her appointment. My doctor took one look at me and said – you NEED to come back and see me. Tomorrow. 

Out of complete fear and again, paranoia, I went back the next day. I couldn’t live like this any longer. I told her everything. I begged her for help. She gave me a plan and made an appointment for a week’s time. I got a few days clean, but then I used again. This vicious cycle kept going around and around. For months. I could get 11 days together. 11 days. Never 12. I kept going back. I kept using. 

Finally, when D.C.J suggested rehab, I couldn’t bear the thought of being away from my daughter. But then, they said there was somewhere I could go and take her with me. I wasn’t ready. I kept using. I knew they were going to take her. So I left her with my aunty and I promised I would get myself better. 

I rang Kamira. From the moment they answered my call, I was met with such empathy. No judgement whatsoever... when I eventually got to Kamira, I was empty. I had no idea what to expect. The residents were all in the same boat as me. They were all so different and yet we were all the same. We were women who needed help. 

I had seen many counsellors from a young age. But the counsellor I was given at Kamira was the most understanding, patient, uncritical person. I started by saying, my story wasn’t cliché. I didn’t have issues with my childhood and I didn’t want to talk about past. My son died. I had a baby. And he died. The hospital made a mistake. That was it. That was all that was wrong with me. I wanted to be numb. I was hurting. That’s where it started. That’s where it ended. I had no idea the work I would do at Kamira would show me WHERE my self destructive behaviours began and WHY I allowed myself to punish myself for so long. That yes, something terrible happened to me. But WHY I was the way I was. I got 12 days clean. Then 13 days. And then, like a miracle - my daughter entered Kamira with me. We stayed, together, on our Kamira journey for 5 months. When I left, I was given the most amazing compliment – “Jessie, your daughter is so lucky to have you.” It is still to this day, my most favourite thing anyone could ever say about me. 

After leaving Kamira, I had the confidence to put boundaries in place. In all aspects of my life. With myself, with others. I refused to be involved with anyone or anything that would interfere with my recovery. I started a new life. 

I am forever grateful for my time at Kamira. I am now 1 year and 8 months clean and sober. My family is back together and we live the most normal, boring, regular life. The pantry is always full. Every night looks the same. We eat dinner at the table together. We watch TV together. The kids have a bath. We read to them. They are asleep by 8pm. Every single night. We get the most amazing joy from the smallest things. My youngest daughter just moved up a level in swimming lessons and my step daughter just performed in a drama performance in front of a hall full of people and we were jumping up and down in the audience. We dance in the car and the shopping centre and we don’t care what anyone thinks because we are clean, sober, happy and good parents. 

At Kamira, I was never seen as an addict. I was always seen as a person. A woman. A mother. And now, thanks to Kamira – I’m a great one. 

Before Kamira, my life was chaos. My whole life to this point had evolved around meeting other peoples expectations (real or perceived). My self-worth was tied to others opinions of me and I was constantly seeking external validation- being a high achiever, “good” child, the smart one, the organised one, the best. I have struggle with what I now know to be severe generalised anxiety disorder and complex PTSD for years. In 2014 I experienced several significant life changes and traumas. I did not have the skills or knowledge to manage what was going on in my body and my mind. The anxiety was crippling, all consuming- I was vomiting multiple times a day and had severe insomnia.

My initial drinking to wind down, have fun, take the edge off served a purpose. But it was unmanageable, unsustainable and a necessity to get through the day. I lived in constant denial about the escalating problem, even after a DUI. To try to escape myself I moved to Brisbane. I drank daily around the clock. If I did not have alcohol I would go into withdrawal. This culminated in my first grand-mal seizure and my first treatment for severe alcohol dependence and alcoholic hepatitis. I spent the next year in and out of hospital, be it an emergency or a scheduled admission for alcohol and drug treatment. I lived in my car, couch surfed and was kicked out of rentals. I could not hold down a job- turned up drunk, did not turn up or had withdrawal seizures in the work place. I drank to oblivion, often resulting in hospital admissions with lethal levels of alcohol in my body, and in one instance, an induced coma. I did not want to die but I also could not see how to live because I felt so alone, ashamed and hopeless. I had lost my voice both figuratively and the physical volume.

Kamira was the circuit stopper I needed. I chose Kamira due to the trauma informed care approach. As a health care professional myself, knowing that the case managers were health professionals was critical to my sense of safety in the service. I found all staff members at Kamira to be approachable and professional. I felt respected, heard and validated in my experiences. If I raised a query, it was listened to and worked through.

There were a multitude of challenges face daily including:

·        Living with other women who had their own experiences

·        House dynamics

·        Daily structure and routine

·        Stage work

·        Processing trauma and managing new ways to manage myself.

Groups offered a broad approach to treatment allowing me to explore and find what worked best for me and to try new things. I began to experience feelings again and was able to articulate what was going on internally which supported me to come back into my body. I started to laugh again.

I worked extensively with my case manager with an open dialogue., I felt safe to be vulnerable and was held/ supported in that while I tried to work through my past experiences and what was happening in the present. Completing stage work was confronting, eye opening and liberating. I explored my values, my boundaries, and my body’s responses to situations and strategies to manage. I developed confidence in my decisions and was encouraged to use reflection to learn from different situations. The experience in Kamira of this therapeutic relationship continues to be instrumental in my recovery. Being in Kamira gave me the time that I needed to stop, to breathe, and to recalibrate. I had constantly lived my life in high stress, high output, and constantly seeking more to avoid myself. Learning to sit with myself, finding activities or healthy outlets, or working through discomfort was not easy, however the experience has been genuinely life changing.

After graduating Kamira I made the decision to go to a transitional rehabilitation service in Sydney and completed another three and a half months. This allowed me to consolidate, implement and develop confidence in the skills and knowledge I had gained at Kamira before integrating back into Sydney.

I am currently 17 months sober, living in independent transitional housing and working part time in health research- a role commensurate with my professional experience and skills. I have had several very challenging and traumatic experiences since leaving Kamira and have been able to manage myself. I have developed such respect for my body’s warning system and intuition and have learned to lean into that and explore it. I make room for feelings of discomfort, acknowledge their presence and have the skills to sit with the experience.

I am now an active participant in my life, taking responsibility for my choices rather than being a passive victim to my life circumstance. This shift in my mind set and self-worth has been the corner stone to my recovery and well-being. I have found the wholistic approach offered by Kamira to be easily integrated into my daily life; routine exercise, reflection, mindfulness, psychological support, eating well and spending time with others and time for myself. I am developing confidence each day to get my needs met through myself, social and work settings. I am rebuilding relationships with family and friends. Today, I am content with my life. I am living an authentic life, true to my values and implementing boundaries. Kamira was scaffolding for me to rebuild my life and to find my voice volume.

What led you to come into treatment?

My journey to Kamira was a short, steep, one. My excessive alcohol use began about 8 years ago as my work stress increased. I found it increasingly difficult to wind down after a busy or difficult day and I found the quickest way was alcohol. Alcohol use became abuse, which then became addiction, in the very short space of about 1 year and I found it impossible to stop drinking. I was admitted to Wesley Private Hospital in November 2017, and although long term rehab was suggested then I was sure that if I did detox, which I did, I would then be able to control my alcohol intake. I didn’t really believe I was an alcoholic at that stage, or for the 3 admissions in 8 months after that. 

By my 4th admission within 10 months I was finally a believer, and in case there was any lingering morsel of doubt, I was only out of Wesley for 6 days before being readmitted after my worst relapse yet, which included a suicide attempt, and meant missing my beloved nephew’s wedding and attached family holiday in Perth. It was upon this 5th admission that I realised that long term rehab was the only was forward for me, and on the recommendation of my psychiatrist and one of the Wesley counsellors that I decided Kamira was the right choice for me. 

I decided on Kamira mainly as it is a trauma-based program, rather than 12 step based, because I realised I had a lot of childhood and adolescent trauma I had never dealt with and until I did work around those things my chance of remaining abstinent was slim. I also chose it because it was women only, and that children could reside with their mothers up to a certain age. I felt an environment that had children would be safe for me and that perhaps having little ones in residence would lighten the atmosphere, which it did.

What was your experience of Kamira like?

Being at Kamira is hard, never doubt that, but it was life saving for me. Sharing a bathrooms and living space as well as those from a vastly different backgrounds was difficult and eye opening. It was also mind opening simply because by living in those close quarters, sharing every meal, as well as our stories, helped me to understand more about homelessness, domestic violence and indigenous traditions than I ever would have done if I hadn’t gone to Kamira.

Kamira gave me the space, support and education I needed to figure out the path that had led me there and how to not end up back there again. It suited me to have a program that was structured but also allowed me to progress at my own pace, so that I wasn’t pushed to complete stages before I felt ready. Like with most things in life, the effort that’s put into Kamira’s program determines the outcome, and I think that I squeezed every drop of learning possible out of it. I discovered a love of art, especially painting.

I have never in my whole life felt as supported, by both staff and residents, as I did during my time at Kamira.

What did you gain from Kamira?

I gained knowledge and understanding. It’s one thing to know something intellectually, but it’s another to really understand it, and Kamira helped me to do both. When I left Kamira, I had a far better understanding of myself, as well as a list of things I needed to continue working on. It might seem as though it was wrong to still have that list,  but please understand that when I arrived at Kamira I had no idea of what had happened to me, or how I’d ended up where I did, so it took me a long time and a lot of counselling, to get to my problematic core beliefs rather than concentrating on the surface trauma that seemed so obvious.

 This is what I gained from Kamira, a self-awareness I never had before, a realisation that I have a right to exist, the knowledge and understanding that abstinence does not mean living an substandard life, and friendships with women I would never have crossed paths with otherwise and that I hope will last a lifetime.