Hello to whomever is in the audience, my name is R.A., and I’d like to share a few things about my experience with The Bridge. I think it’s important to start with who I was before I came here, and I’ll keep it short.

I grew up in a broken home, which sadly is all too common. I watched my parents never love each other, and because of that, I never truly learned what love was—especially toward myself.

As a child, I remember being fascinated with dragons and the knights who fought them. I turned gardens into playgrounds, roamed forests with wooden swords, and carried a heart that longed to belong. That child eventually died, suffocated beneath the addiction I turned to in place of love. I didn’t realize this truth until recently—and The Bridge helped me see it.

After years of addiction, I came to a crossroads: either shake hands with whatever awaited me in the afterlife- or get clean. I chose the latter. On the two-and-a-half-hour drive to Kelowna, I was paralyzed with anxiety. Every minute I considered asking my dad to turn around. I couldn’t imagine a life without alcohol and the drugs that came with it. Sobriety was a stranger; I couldn’t picture him.

When we pulled up to Gray Road and I watched the door close behind me as my dad drove away, I wanted to run. But I’m glad I didn’t. What I feared would be padded rooms and shackles turned out to be kind eyes, gentle laughs, and beds that—well—could use some work. Humor has always been a part of me, if you couldn’t tell.

At The Bridge, I learned about trauma, and how often addiction grows from it. When I heard I’d have to look inward, I thought, “This is going to suck, isn’t it?” And I was right—it did. I cried, I had nightmares, and I fought cruel thoughts. But for the first time, I faced it all without a bottle or a pipe. And not once was I alone. Not once did I go without someone to talk to. Not once did I lack kind voices and understanding hearts to guide me through recovery.

The Bridge doesn’t just help you walk—it teaches you to walk on your own, while offering their arms until you’re ready to let go. Gray Road began with fear and ended with me not wanting to leave, because in many ways it had become home. It was the first place I became the real me again.

The program not only helps you get sober but also addresses why you used in the first place, while giving you the tools to survive on your own. Of course, like anything, it only works if you want it. I’ve seen many people stumble, but never because The Bridge failed them. Help is a two-way street. I’m simply grateful I chose to walk mine with them.

Even if I had gone sober on my own, I know I wouldn’t have achieved as much without the support of The Bridge. I may not have survived without the late-night talks, the reassurances, the reminders that the world wasn’t ending. Since then, I’ve discovered that the world is what I believed it was as a child: full of wonder, excitement, and good people. Most importantly, I’ve learned what love is and what it can do. Even though my mother and older brother are no longer with me, I’ve made a new family with me—myself—and I. At least, until I find a girl dumb enough to marry me, hah!

After Gray Road, I moved into SRK. I knew if I went back to my hometown, the darkness that raised me would have swallowed me again. SRK has been an incredible place for growth. It’s the perfect balance of independence and support, and it’s allowed me to put down roots in Kelowna. I no longer call Grand Forks home—though I’m not sure it ever was.

At first, I worried the staff at SRK would be different, but I was quickly proven wrong. Every staff member I’ve met has been chosen well. Most can relate to our struggles, and they show every day that they want to help—not because it’s their job, but because it’s who they are. Even the management team are so approachable that sometimes I forget they run the place. They’ve been there to calm my anxieties when I expected the worst, as I often do. For the first time in my life, I can relax. I no longer fear the future or my own survival. Gray Road and SRK gave me this faith—a sword passed down to me.

I don’t know exactly where life will take me, but I know it’s better than a tombstone that reads “gone too young.” Whatever good comes my way, I owe it to myself—and to The Bridge for having the patience to walk with me.

I didn’t name anyone specifically because I believe every staff member is equally important. You all play your part in making The Bridge what it is, and no one outshines the other. So, thank you—to everyone I met, and everyone I didn’t. If not for you, I would not still carry air within my lungs.

Sincerely and forever grateful,
Your friend,
R.A.

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