Meet Bri, Team Challenge Resident Member

“I had a relatively normal childhood in rural Minnesota. Close family, and I was into sports -  gymnastics, track and field, soccer, all the things. But when I was 15, I started dating an older guy and sneaking around. The relationship changed a lot of things for me very quickly. 

My boyfriend sold drugs, gave me alcohol - it was just a lot more than I bargained for. But I was a teenage girl in love, so I went along with it. Then one weekend, my boyfriend and his friends broke into some cabins and were caught by the police. I was along and considered an accomplice and, as a minor, I was sent to a ‘girls’ home’.  I called my boyfriend and begged him to come and get me out, and he hung up on me. I was devastated. I loved him, and he made me feel worthless. That’s around when I developed an eating disorder.

Strictly controlling my eating was a way to deal with my problems. I had lost control of everything else. I was defeated, and I had no self-worth. I stopped feeling hunger for what it was, I didn’t know how to enjoy food - this would go on for 15 years. When I returned home after nine months, I went back to my boyfriend, and right back into everything. I was partying and I started doing drugs. But honestly, the eating disorder was still the most detrimental to me, because it was easier to hide. 

I managed to graduate from high school and start college, but I was still living with my boyfriend and now we were selling drugs to other college kids. At 19, we got busted by the police - I now had a record. Two months later I found out I was pregnant.

My baby girl motivated me to be healthy, even before she was born. I broke up with her father and quit smoking, drinking, and I was actually eating regularly. For almost five years it was just me and her, making our way together.

When she was five, I started dating someone who was addicted to painkillers. Just like an eating disorder, painkillers can provide a distraction - pushing down those feelings of not being good enough. I felt such relief the first time - I wasn’t thinking about food or eating anymore.  I’d been prescribed them in the past when I got my wisdom teeth removed, so I didn’t think of them the way I did other drugs. But I had gone on a trip with my family and after a few days I got so sick, and I didn’t know why. I called my boyfriend and he said well yeah, you’re addicted to painkillers and you are withdrawing. In that moment my world shattered. Any motivation or goals pushing me forward was gone. I should’ve told my family - things could have been different. But shame keeps you quiet. 

For awhile, I managed to keep my life together enough while using the painkillers. But it was to the point where I was spending almost thousands each month on painkillers, so I started selling to keep up my habit. You know, you get on this train you never meant to get on, and now you’re going 100 miles an hour and it feels like if you try to jump off you will die. My life was at the point where the pain of my reality, it seemed, outweighed the pain of living the life of an addict. When you use drugs, you’re just trying to prolong your existence at that moment. You are desperate to get out of the spot you are at. I would use [drugs], go to bed, wake up in withdrawal, and use again.

I wanted to quit so badly - I moved home, away from my boyfriend, but addiction follows you everywhere you go. And the way I saw the world had changed. Being numb, pushing all of the horrible feelings down. I would struggle to stay sober, try to be happy and keep people around so I wouldn’t be alone. Not understanding what’s missing, and trying to be a mom at the same time. I lost my daughter, went back to jail, started using heroin and then meth. My world had crumbled and I couldn’t crawl out.

In 2018, I ended up getting a virus in my heart from shooting up bad meth and I was in a coma for over a month. I should’ve died. After I awoke, I couldn’t walk - and I was facing eleven felony charges. This was a new level of low.  I was in the hospital for four and a half months learning how to walk again, but also shooting up [in the hospital]. I shot heroin the day I got out. But I got to the point where the drugs didn’t get me high anymore. You don’t believe the day will come, but it did. I had this revelation moment, this epiphany where God was like “Are you serious?” The next day I entered treatment.

I had a lot of work to do. I had a walker, and not having my legs was a big deal. I had to prove to myself that I wasn’t going to die being out in the world. I wasn’t sure my legs would ever work again. But I did a lot of work there, physically and mentally. I started to experience things like joy. I hadn’t realized that I hadn’t had that before. I didn’t know that the eating disorder, and then the drugs, had wiped that from my life. There were relapses, and the joy was stolen for awhile. But I always knew I wanted that back. 

When I got to Teen Challenge, it took a long time to believe that people would want to be my friend. I joined Mile in My Shoes because I didn’t have a healthy relationship with working out, I was very unkind to my body and I was very unkind to myself, overall. Getting out there took a lot of self-talk and I really had to give myself a lot of grace. The mental battle with that is real, because one of the biggest triggers for women is their body. So when I was given the opportunity to do MiMS, that was a really healthy way for me to learn how to cope with things. I probably scared some of the Mentors because I would be struggling and distraught and I can remember just yelling!