“When I went to CFR, I just wanted to stop using meth, I didn’t have any intention of quitting drinking because I didn’t think I had a problem,” the recent Gateway to Discovery graduate said. “I was never in trouble with the law for drugs, just alcohol.”

With alcohol remaining as a legal option for her, she didn’t see the convictions as a sign she needed help, but rather as a sign of bad luck. In the world she used to be a part of, drugs and alcohol were just normal.

But now free from both struggles, she couldn’t imagine life any other way.

Seeing a friend go through treatment made her realize she could do it, but the unique Gateway to Discovery program, where women live in a house together for two years to dedicate their focus to recovery, made her realize it could be the new way of life she had been searching years for.

Looking back, the signs of a life run amuck by substance abuse were obvious, but the path to a different life was not, she said. Pinpointing the source of the abuse was elusive to the 46-year-old who started drinking as a teenager.

After falling one credit short to graduate from high school, the shame snowballed from weekend drinking to marijuana use, before escalating to meth use that intensified under the influence of a toxic relationship.

“I had goals,” she recalled. “I always wanted to go to (college). I always wanted to have some sort of career.”

But hanging in the balance with no emotional support, she instead turned to smoking and drinking the pain away over the decades. Falling short of her own expectations, the more she used, the worse the shame grew.

“I never knew how to live life on life’s terms. I knew I needed help,” said Wild. “But I didn’t know what kind of help I needed. I didn’t necessarily know I had a drinking problem — I just didn’t know how to live life.”

By the time she was in her 40s, she said she lost everything, including two homes completely paid off. Over 10 years ago, after falling on hard times with employment, the Nevada, Iowa native liquidated the $30,000 in her 401k for drugs and alcohol in between stints of difficult relationships and living circumstances.

“Because I didn’t know what else to do,” she explained.

After abandoning two homes that she couldn’t maintain and struggling to hold down a job, it was the unique Fort Dodge program that became her key to a success she could grasp.

When Wild learned about the two-year program through a presentation while in CFR treatment, she balked at the length of commitment required.

“That’s a long time,” she said.

At graduation, she admitted, to laughs, that she only came for the $40 a week, which participants receive in lieu of working outside jobs to dedicate themselves to sobriety and recovery.

“My original plan was to stay there, collect a few hundred dollars and get my own place,” Wild said.

But the longer she stuck around, the less of an option that became.

“I just fell in love with recovery and the program,” she said.

Witnessing her graduation in July made it obvious that the merits of the program for Wild were not only in its financial support of participants, but in the emotional bolstering provided by the sisterhood who knows each others pains, no matter their source.

Wild’s a crier, she admits. She used to be embarrassed of her emotions after an upbringing that emphasized hiding them or bottling them in.

“I was a taker before, but I’m not anymore,” she said with pride at graduation, even if she had a hard time finishing some of her sentences without tears, proud that she could be an important part of other women’s journeys.

In a program where women feel free to let down their guard on vulnerabilities, difficulty finishing sentences didn’t need to be explained. She’s not afraid to be that way in front of them, but what’s more is that she no longer has to be that way in front of anyone, a release valve to years of compression that substance abuse helped her cope with.

“I never trusted anybody outside myself, and always thought I had to do things on my own,” she said tearfully. “I never had that emotional support.”

The tears were nothing new to Wild, but this pause was different — a seemingly new revelation about her growth through Gateway that gave her hesitation to reflect.

Likewise, she’s torn down the guard on her life’s story in hopes that her testimony will serve as an inspiration for other women like her as she stays involved in support groups after graduation. Now, her darkest moments serve as her greatest strengths.

“We all have a very similar story,” she said, “it’s just different characters in the story.”

That’s an apt metaphor for someone whose strength during Bible study is helping others keep the names in scriptures straight and perhaps a parallel for those in treatment programs that are sometimes told to find the similarities in each other. Wild credits a rebuilt faith and relationship with God for her success this time, after other failed attempts in treatment programs.

With a sisterhood, a new relationship with God and even a little cash to help her transition out of the program, she said “hope” is now her favorite word. But listening to Wild’s story reveals that “peace” might be a close second, having attained a tangible light to shine on a predictably bright future.

“Before Gateway, I was always trying to hide from God. I was ashamed,” she said. “I don’t have that shame now because I know I’m forgiven.”

Now, she wants others to feel the inner peace she feels.

Now, she knows the relationships she has are worth more than $40 will ever buy, “because I know that I’m never alone anymore.”