On Nov. 19, Gracyn Tanche celebrated an occasion that would have seemed unthinkable to her in earlier chapters of her life: she reached one year of sobriety.
"I didn't think in a million years I'd ever make it," the 35-year-old mother of one said from her home in Fort Simpson. "I have struggled with addiction through the majority of my adult life."
Tanche figures her substance use started when she was around 17 years old. She "struggled with addiction from then till now," she said, using drugs and alcohol as a way to cope with unhealed trauma.
"The whole point of the addictions was to numb everything," she said. "It's the trauma that's the problem SA国际影视传媒� it goes unhealed and makes you want to numb."
Tanche's struggles with addiction took a turn for the worse when she left Fort Simpson. She moved around frequently over the years. Her first major stop was Victoria, where she earned a diploma in Indigenous language revitalization, and later a degree in education SA国际影视传媒� all as a "functioning addict." Later, she moved to Edmonton. That's where things really turned bad. She "overdosed multiple times," she said. She was found dead and "brought back to life multiple times." As a result, she said she "lost everything."
"That was it for me," she said. "I wasn't employable... I was at my rock bottom. I lost everything and I lost everybody."
It was around that time SA国际影视传媒� "surrounded by criminals and very bad people" SA国际影视传媒� that Tanche finally realized she needed to turn things around. After countless previous attempts at recovery, she embarked on the journey that would ultimately lead to her one-year sobriety celebration on Nov. 19.
Tanche tackled the first phase of her recovery in Hay River, but later returned to Fort Simpson. Even with the support of her family and friends in the community, her first year of sobriety has been challenging. She has faced some temptation, she admits, but has found the strength to resist, motivated by a promise she made to her son.
"One time since I've been home, somebody was using [drugs] in the same area as me," she recalled. "All I could think about was the promise I made to my son. I promised him that even though I messed up while he was a very young child... and he's 13 now. I'm going be there when he graduates. I'm going to be there when he gets married. I'm going to be there to help him with his children and my grandchildren. That was all I could think about. I had an opportunity SA国际影视传媒� I could have taken those drugs and I could have used it SA国际影视传媒� but all I could think about was that I made a promise."
Tanche, who said her grandfather was "a healer," now works as a wellness program manager in the village, and takes great pride in helping others through their recovery SA国际影视传媒� particularly her fellow Indigenous people.
"It means just as much, if not more" to her than her own sobriety, she said.
Working in the wellness sector, she often sees evidence of the stigma that is associated with addiction. Having lived through it herself, she knows that harsh judgment is potent enough that it can deter people from seeking the help they need out of shame and embarrassment.
That's precisely why she is so willing to share her own recovery story. She hopes that by "recovering out loud" she can help people "feel less alone," and prove to anybody who is interested in pursuing sobriety that it can be done.
She acknowledges it isn't easy, but she promises that the rewards are well worth the effort.
"I wake up every day and I'm so grateful," she said, fighting back tears when asked how much her life has improved as a result of her sobriety. "I give thanks. I pray to my grandmother and my grandfather and my ancestors. I pray to my creator.
"It's remarkable... I didn't know life could be this beautiful."
