From Hopeless Drug Addict to Clean, Born-Again, Hope-Dealing, Woman of Sobriety

My name is Noblelee Dawn Cook-Wright, and this is my story…

I was born July 23,1974. I had an older sister who was 6, and an older brother who was 4. I had a happy home life, my father a timber faller and my mother a teacher's-aide.

Our family went through the biggest tragedy that one could imagine. In 1976, my brother was kidnapped out of the back of my dad’s truck, held captive for 4 days and then murdered. He was only 6 years old. That day ruined my life and my family forever. 

My parents had two more children trying for a son. I got 2 sisters instead. Eventually, the guilt and loss drove my parents apart, and they divorced summer after 3rd grade. I was 8. 

We had to move to Oregon with our mom, and this move devastated me. I isolated myself a lot and often felt like no one really cared about me anyways. Things were about to get worse. 

My mom’s new boyfriend was physically abusing my mom as well as my sisters and me. He was a meth user and a mean drunk. He tried physically abusing my younger sisters more often, and I just wasn’t having that. I would lay on them and take whatever beating that he felt he needed to dish. I started thinking, since God or no one else will take this horrible man away, maybe I could kill him. I am now 11 years old, and I have started burning and carving on myself as well as sharpening my pencil and stabbing myself in the stomach during class just to relieve some pain. 

I couldn’t take a second more of my life at my mom’s so I moved back to my dad's in the middle of my 6th grade year. This is when I started using alcohol for the first time, at first it was only on the weekends. I felt so guilty and sick for leaving my younger sisters. I did not know how to cope, so my drinking progressed very fast, and it wasn’t long before I was smoking marijuana as well. 

I already had two MIP’s, an assault, and a breaking and entering charge before the end of 7th grade. I got into so much trouble by the end of 8th grade that my dad was done dealing with me, so he sent me to Sacramento to live with my mom and sisters. I had barely been there for two weeks, and I was sexually assaulted. I was 13. 

After that, I really spiraled out of control. My mom was now working at one of the biggest biker bars in Sac, and she was using lots of meth. She wanted to go on a trip to Reno and wanted me to babysit so she gave me meth for the first time. I had only been 14 for a week. I did such a large amount that first time that I was wired for like 3 days. Before long, I was snorting meth every other day. I felt damaged, scared, and alone. 

Later that year, my mom let me date the meth cook. I was 14, and he was 34. At this time, my drug use increased yet again. I am now starting high school, which was very short lived; I dropped out 2 months later. I was doing lots of meth, pills, drinking, acid, weed, and smoking cigs. I was a very angry drop-out who was getting hooked on meth in a big way.

Mid-way through my sophomore year, I moved back to the reservation with my dad. I started using and drinking instantly. My dad went through my stuff and found meth in my room. One month into my junior year, he sent me to Serenity Lane (drug and alcohol rehab) in Oregon for 120 days. 

Four days after I got home, I got a 21-year-old boyfriend, and I relapsed. I was off and running again. Things were so horrible for me that at 16 I had my first suicide attempt. I messed myself up pretty good, and I was hospitalized. 

Shortly after that, I moved 75 miles away with the 21-year-old now abusive boyfriend, I was 17, and now I have tried using meth intravenously. I liked it, but it also scared me a lot. I had only used it that way 15 times, and then I stopped.

I knew I needed a change, so I left that boyfriend and moved to Oregon with my mom. At this time, I only used meth occasionally; I mostly drank and smoked weed. 

I now meet my future husband. Life is pretty good, but another tragedy strikes. My sister-in-law died of an opiate-related overdose, and we adopted her very damaged 7-year-old daughter. My husband's drinking was out of control, and he could not help me do anything. I was now introduced to methadone and had a $100 a day habit real fast, and I started using meth heavy again. This went on for a while. She lived with us until she was 13, and we gave up custody. 

This was in 2009. I was now 35, and I was introduced to heroin, and I started injecting it. I split from my husband and moved to Corvallis, OR, where I met my son’s father. I got pregnant with my only child. It was a very high-risk pregnancy, and I did not hardly get any prenatal care because we were 72 miles from the hospital, and tribal doctors were horrible. My son’s father was sent to prison for beating me so badly. I got my own 2-bedroom tribal house for my son and me. 

I gave birth to my son Waylon James Adams on October 22, 2014, at 40 years old. I was supposed to have a cesarean, and I got a different doctor last minute. Everything was happening so fast. I cannot get into those details at this time, but I never got to bring Waylon home alive. I have never felt that kind of pain. My miracle baby was gone. I went back to my place and was prepared to kill myself. I did a big enough shot of heroin to kill myself…my god, I just wanted to die. My friend came and checked on me. I was overdosed, just about dead. She stripped me naked and packed me in a bathtub full of ice, while her boyfriend got Narcan. It took 3 doses, but I made it. 

I couldn’t take it anymore, so I followed a guy to Olympia, WA. I had never been there before. I lived on the streets for 2 years, addiction worse than it has ever been. I knew I would die, and soon, if I did not get help. So I went to the homeless shelter where I sometimes showered and slept and told her I wanted treatment. Plus, there was this crazy feeling that I could not shake, telling me to go home. 

She instantly got me into a Native American in-patient treatment center, and that is where the true healing started for me. I completed the program, and on July 19, 2016, I moved to Oregon and moved in with my mom for a couple of months and then into an Oxford home. 

Two months after moving into the Oxford house and less than 6 months clean, I was diagnosed with stage 3 Hodgkin's Lymphoma. Punch!!!!! That one took the wind out of me, as did so many others. In January, I am now 43 years old, I got my port put in, and I began chemo. I moved from my Oxford House and into a privately owned faith-based recovery home. These ladies loved on me, took care of me, and just let me be sick and get through my chemotherapy. 

I put myself in a bad situation, and I relapsed. I then moved into a studio apartment and continued to use once in a while. 

Then I got clean and sober for good on March 19, 2020. I moved back into the faith-based recovery home on April 4, 2020. I currently live here, and I have been managing this home for the last 3 ½ years - just being there, supporting, and encouraging the women who are coming in from exactly where I was. 

Since I decided to live, to change my life around and stay off substances, I have accomplished all of this: 

• I graduated out-patient treatment;

• I got my driver’s license back;

• I bought my first car;

• I completely got off parole and probation;

• I worked as a cook in a restaurant for 2.5 years and then have been working at my dream job the last year, which is working at Intensive Family Services as an outreach worker, making a difference in the lives of people struggling with Substance Abuse Disorder and Mental Health;

• I sponsor women and have a sponsor myself; and 

• I run a recovery church. 

As you just read, I have lots of lived experience. I beat cancer and have been in remission for 3 ½ years. And there’s so much more. This is a life that 5 ½ years ago, in my heart and mind, I didn’t think would ever, ever be reachable. I want to thank my parents who never gave up on me in my darkest hour. 

If you are struggling with sobriety or if you go back out there, remember this: “It’s not the length of the fall but the strength of the get up.” I speak to every mountain of discouragement, stress, depression, and lack, and say, “Be cast into the sea in Jesus name” (Mark 11:22). I am not going to lie; it will be hard. It is not all glitter and sunshine, but I would not trade my best day in my active addiction for my worst day in recovery. You can do this, you are loved, and you are SO worth it.

We are all equipped by the same spirit, and we are all secured by the same hope. How each of us carries out our role depends on our particular gifts and our present circumstance. When we seek the same spirit and align ourselves together, we maintain unity and peace. I love all of you, I love my life now, and I love my life in RECOVERY.