My name is Bobby D. My sobriety date is 3-17-24, and I am an alcoholic! For almost twenty years, I come in and out of treatment centers, the rooms of alcoholic anonymous, with no intentions on having a sponsor, working the steps, or changing one single thing about the way I lived. For around eighteen years, I tried everything my way. Staying so selfish, not allowing anyone to help me, figuring I could stay sober all on my own. All I did was prolong years of pain and suffering for my family and myself.

My name is Andrea C., and my sobriety date is December 16, 2023. I have a sponsor and a higher power of my understanding. I am the mother of five beautiful daughters. Two of my daughters came through the Jean Marie House and are sober today. They inspired me to enter this program. I am also a proud nana to ten grandchildren whom I dearly love, cherish, and hold close to my heart. I was raised in Garfield Heights and grew up in an amazing, loving family. We went camping, played hockey, and I did well in school. I even made homecoming court. My father was a recovered alcoholic, and growing up, I never imagined addiction would become part of my own story. I began using at the age of 37. I have been married for 43 years, and my husband and I started using together, believing we were in control. Over time, that illusion faded. What began as substance use turned into physical abuse, then verbal abuse. We lost our homes, and eventually, I went to prison.

My name is Jon S. My sobriety date is May 2, 2022. I have a home group, a sponsor, a higher power of my understanding. Having a safe, clean and comfortable environment, like the Ed Keating Center, gave me the perfect opportunity to apply the 12 steps of Alcoholic's Anonymous into my life. I grew up in a troubled home and encountered a lot of loss in my early childhood. Having a feeling that I never belonged, making friends proved difficult to me. Throughout my adolescents, I could never seem to stick to any one thing. Whether it was sports, girls, school or anything requiring effort and time, I would always give up. The only thing I ever stuck with was chasing the feeling caused from alcohol and drugs. In my mind, I had found the keys to the city and had everything figured out while under the influence.

My name is Becky, and I’m an alcoholic. My sobriety date is September 4, 2013. I grew up in the Cleveland suburbs running around with friends, going on field trips, having sleepovers, going back and forth between my divorced parents’ homes, and following my big sister, wanting to do whatever she and her friends were doing. It sounds like a typical and happy childhood, but what I could not explain to you then was that I always felt like I was on the “outside looking in,” and I never felt like anyone could understand my thoughts or feelings. So, I kept that to myself and did what was expected: getting good grades, playing the clarinet, and trying to be a “good kid.”

Hello, my name is Geoffrey R. My birthday is August 29, 1986. I am 39 years old, and I was born in Cleveland, Ohio. Growing up as a kid, I had a wonderful mother who did all she could for my brother and sister and me. There was always a lot of addiction in our family. Two of my mom‘s brothers, and her only sister, are dead as a direct result from addiction. So that means my grandparents had to put three kids to rest before they passed away.

I’m Rachel D, and my sobriety date is June 30, 2023. Growing up was chaotic, but I still had hopes and dreams. I didn’t set out to burn my life down. I just wanted the noise in my head to quiet and the ache in my chest to ease. The first time I put substances in my body, it felt like someone had finally found the dimmer switch on my fear. I didn’t know it then, but I had just handed over my coping to something that didn’t care if I lived or died—only that I kept feeding it.

My name is Mikey A., and my sobriety date is October 25, 2017. That date marks the beginning of a new life, one that I never imagined possible during the darkest days of my addiction. Before recovery, my life was unmanageable. I was caught in a cycle that felt impossible to break using to escape pain, shame, and emptiness, only to end up deeper in it. I lost trust, opportunities, time, and most painfully, parts of myself. I was alive, but not living. Every day was a battle, and I didn’t know if I had it in me to make it out. But i did.