Leer en español This is the second installment in a series about Pennsylvanians in recovery from substance use disorder and how stigma affected their recovery. The series is a collaboration between Public Good News, Centro Integral de la Mujer Madre Tierra, and Life Unites Us. If you’d like to share your story, contact us at Info@PublicGoodNews.com.
[Editor’s note: The contents of this interview have been edited for length and clarity. This interview was originally conducted in Spanish.]
Carmen Albrecht, 58
Outreach bilingual coordinator at Peace and Harmony House in Berks County
Reading, Pennsylvania
I am a mother of five children. I have 22 grandchildren, six great-grandchildren, and I have been married for 16 years. I came to the United States from Puerto Rico in 1979, when my parents separated. My father struggled a lot with alcohol and was abusive toward my mother.
I stayed in the United States with my father, and during that time, I decided to start a family at a very young age. By the age of 21, I already had five children. Very shortly after having my children, I was introduced to cocaine. Less than a year later, I was completely addicted.
By 1996, I had lost my five children to social services because I had become consumed by my addiction.
It controlled me completely—not only mentally, but also physically and emotionally. It numbed so much of the sadness, pain, and loneliness I had back then as a single mother.
There were many times I tried to leave it behind because people wanted me to change so I could get my children back and move forward. I was a young person, only 27 years old. With addiction, I didn’t just lose my dignity—I lost my pride and my faith.
There were many blows along the way because my own people looked at me differently and no one respected me anymore. The stigma crushed me completely, and I kept going with that pain.
I was treated badly. People called me “drug addict,” “dirty,” and told me I was worthless. They said, “They took your children away because you deserved it,” and, “Your family will never accept you like that.” There was a time in 2002 when I sought help, and my children were returned to me—but about a year and a half later, or less, I lost them again.
This is something I wrote:
“During the struggle with addiction for more than 10 years, one of the deepest wounds did not come only from the drugs, but from the stigma that surrounded me. People who called me an ‘addict’ looked at me with contempt, as if I were less than human. Over time, those words began to feel like the truth. I felt useless. I felt worthless, convinced that this was the only future waiting for me. Stigma doesn’t just hurt—it completely crushes you. It makes you believe you don’t deserve help. It makes you hide from people, hide like a worm all tangled up, making you think there is no way out. And when you are already at your lowest point, that judgment can push you even deeper—and it does. It wasn’t until I went through many jails and institutions that I was able to slow down enough to see what I could do and realize that there was hope for me. There, I received structure and support and the opportunity to begin to rebuild myself.”
When I left prison, I had already met someone—and that person did not judge me for who I was. That person supported me. I remember thinking, “That can’t be real because nobody loves me.” But he was the only one who stayed there, standing strong with me. That’s how my recovery began.
I had to go to court, see the judge, report to parole, deal with social services, take care of my mental health, keep a job, and maintain a home—and for me, that was overwhelming. But with the support of the person who is now my husband, and the support of the job I had, I was able to complete all those programs in 18 months.
Then I said to myself, “I have to make a change in my life. I have to help those who are where I once was.” If I don’t help them, they won’t find a way out because this is incredibly hard.
So I set aside all the things that hurt me so much. Those names people called me and the ways they hurt me, that was the addiction, that wasn’t who I truly was. I am different. I am a strong person, and I can do this. Little by little, I kept going. I started studying and went back to school. I earned my GED. I completed an 18-month program in drug and alcohol counseling and got my first job serving people with mental health needs. By 2008, I was working as an assistant to social workers in a halfway house.
I had a deep hunger to keep moving forward and to keep learning more about what drugs do to people, about the damage I had done to myself, and how I was able to overcome the stigma of how people treated me and how they saw me. I had to learn to walk with my head held high, not look back, and give myself the pride of knowing that I am not that person anymore. I had to look at myself in the mirror every morning and say, “Wow, I am beautiful.”
So I kept studying. I also graduated as a Certified Recovery Specialist. I have a diploma in drug and alcohol counseling, and I also have more than 200 certificates related to working with addiction, alcohol, mental health, and homelessness because I went through all of that myself.
Until recently, I worked at the Hope Rescue Mission with people struggling with addiction, homelessness, and mental health. And now I am working as a bilingual community outreach coordinator at Peace and Harmony House in Berks County.
Even at the age I am now, I want to keep going forward. I want to help in every way I can. I have been able to help thousands and thousands of people, and I have helped send many people to rehabilitation centers who trust me deeply. I have a family that loves me unconditionally. My grandchildren love me. And by the grace of God, today I have been sober for 21 years.
I have spent 18 years working in the field of addiction, walking alongside people who are living what I once lived. Every day I see how stigma continues to be a huge barrier for those seeking help. That’s why I speak about this because no one should be defined by their worst moments. Recovery is possible when we replace judgment with compassion.
If you or anyone you know is considering suicide or self-harm or is anxious, depressed, upset, or needs to talk, call the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline at 988 or text the Crisis Text Line at 741-741. For international resources, here is a good place to begin.
If you’re looking for substance use disorder or mental health help in Pennsylvania, find a list of resources here.
This article first appeared on Public Good News and is republished here under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.