Something I wrote a few years ago....

My childhood was in an upper middle class home, with two loving and committed parents who wanted nothing more than to help me be the best I could be. I had every advantage, and despite some rebellion in my teens, I got to work right out of high school and moved into my own place.

I supported myself for years, living with a boyfriend, then back with my parents, then to another boyfriend's place, but I worked nights - LONG nights - and I couldn't sleep to save my life. Early on, living with my first boyfriend who had his own drug and drinking issues, I was convinced to try drinking to help me sleep. And lo and behold, it worked. So that began a daily drinking habit that went on for years. Finally, after several stints in rehab, and continuing to drink when I got out, because I just didn't know how not to, I tried to quit cold turkey on my own. But I had been drinking so much, so regularly throughout each day, that when I tried to quit, my body went into withdrawals which led me to have a seizure at work. And then, the jig was up. They knew I drank, they knew how much, and when I failed to quit even after the seizure, I lost that job, and subsequently, my apartment.

At rehab, I had met a man, though, and he and I had an incredible connection right from the start. And when we got out, we hooked up. He had already begun drinking again, so I joined him. I stayed with him after that. But it wasn't too long before he had a seizure too. They didn't sell liquor on Sundays, and we had forgotten to get a bottle to prepare. So early Monday morning, after having gone all day Sunday without, he had a seizure. We were convinced to go back to the hospital and check ourselves in, and through our experiences together, we got sober. And, believe it or not, we stayed together. And we're better for each other than I ever would have imagined.

But, life has ups and downs, and when you're recovering from an addiction like the ones we had battled, it tends to have a lot more downs. It's hard to get back into the real world. After being drunk 24/7 for as long as we had been, we had to basically re-learn how to have basic conversations, how to interact with others, and how to be happy without alcohol. And it was hard.

We had a daughter together, and we love her dearly. So when our path led us to one where we had no home, and she was with us, our guilt was overwhelming. We were homeless for about 6 months while we tried to find a way out of that and into a place to live. You'd be amazed how hard it is to get a job when you have no home. We finally did get into housing, though, and we had everything on track - until we lost that house. We lost our income suddenly due to a layoff, and were unable to pay rent, and couldn't get another job fast enough. It was heartbreaking to find ourselves in that position again, going from shelter to shelter, trying to keep a roof over her head (and ours.)

It took another year of homelessness to get out again. We've been housed and stable for almost a year now, and it's so much better for our daughter, and for us.

But here's the thing: I wouldn't trade my battle with alcoholism or that time I spent homeless for anything on earth.

People struggle every day to be happy. No matter how much or how little they have, no matter what their standing in society, no matter ... what. Everyone struggles to find that happiness that is lasting and long, and isn't just something that comes and goes, but is something that becomes a part of your being - something that doesn't get broken down by a bad day or a stoke of bad luck. And through homelessness, I found that happiness that makes me whole. It helps me enjoy every minute of my life even though our income is still tiny, and we struggle to make ANY ends meet. (They never all meet. Not yet.)

What I learned was gratitude. Not to look at something I just bought and think it's nice, but to wake up in the morning grateful for every single comfort I've found, every inch of our tiny home that is one we can afford and are not at risk for losing. I'm more grateful for my husband and daughter than most anyone I know. Those are the things that mattered through it all, and kept us happy. It kept smiles on our faces. Being able to give our child a wonderful day on a playground became so much more when we had to go "home" to a shelter, and teach her how to live that way. Being able to grow plants is not only something I love, but something that gives me countless moments of joy each day when I see them - because for so long, I couldn't grow any.

Gratitude isn't something I learned to experience. It's something I learned to LIVE. Every breath I take is precious. Every smile from my child is precious. And having a home, even though it's in the projects and is far from anywhere I ever thought I'd be, is a gift. To have somewhere to call home is an amazing thing - and I learned that from not having one.

One might have thought my time being homeless would have put me more at risk to relapse. It had the opposite effect, as it turns out. It taught me the ability to feel so much joy every day, in so many moments, that it's grown my strength exponentially.

I am whole now. The vacant places in my soul that I tried to fill with drinking aren't empty anymore. And without living through those hardships, I'd never have reached this place in my mind where I can love life, and I can find ways to improve myself every day. I can focus on being kind, generous, and loving toward everyone I meet. I can understand that everyone faces a battle - and I don't have any idea what it is. So now, I go out of my way to help others when I can, to compliment people I don't know just to add a touch of joy to their days, and I can manage my own relationships in healthy, productive ways.

In essence, homelessness healed me.

Has anyone else experienced homelessness? What was is like for you? Do you feel like you got things out of it that made you stronger?