60 seconds.
That's how long my heart stopped.
Tell the story of the mountain you climbed. Your words could become a page in someone else's survival guide.
I want to tell you why this site exists — because it exists because of one night that changed everything.
I'd been drinking heavily for over fifteen years. That night, I mixed alcohol with too much Xanax. Severe alcohol poisoning. I passed out — unresponsive — on my dad's front lawn.
My 14-year-old brother heard my phone going off, over and over. He came outside to check. He carried me in. He called 911.
By the time paramedics arrived I wasn't responding to anything. Then I stopped breathing altogether. That's when CPR started — and the new adhesive defibrillator pads restarted my heart.
For over a minute, I was gone.
In fifteen years of heavy drinking, nothing like that had ever happened. Not once. But I learned my lesson. It's just unfortunate I learned it the hard way.
I never touched another drink.
Six months of research before I ever sat down.
My parents told me I needed therapy. They were right — but I wanted to walk in prepared. I wanted to be the right candidate.
So I did the work first. About three months of research. Printed worksheets. Filled out questionnaires meant for clinicians. And I journaled — for nearly six months, sometimes twice a day.
I already knew I had a problem. What I didn't know yet was the shape of it. The story underneath it. The parts of me that were older than the drinking.
I also knew if I was going to make real changes, I had to start somewhere new. So I moved out west to live with my mother while I found my footing — until I felt steady enough to live on my own.
Within a couple months, I found her. My therapist. We clicked immediately. Seven years later, I'm still under her care. And I've been sober the whole time.
This is that waiting room.
My own story brought me here — to this idea of giving you a choice. Work through the pre-program, and see where it takes you.
It's okay to be scared. Angry. Sad. Even confused. That's exactly what you're here to figure out. Is it addiction? Is there something going on with your mental health that you need help understanding? Or did you go through something so traumatic, so heartbreaking, that you can't figure it out on your own?
You don't have to know yet. You just have to start.
I'm not a therapist. I won't diagnose you. What I am is someone who was gone for a minute and came back — and I built the tools I wish I'd had between the decision to change and the first appointment.
We are here to guide you. And we are here to make sure you feel safe.
— Gabrielle