By Julia Floyd-Ventura, Senior Program Director, Jamaica Family Wellness Center

Blog author Julia Floyd-Ventura counts not years or months, but rather days, in recovery.

National Recovery Month is celebrated annually in September to recognize the progress that has been made and is possible in mental health and substance use recovery. This yearly observance has special meaning for me. It is a national reminder that the one thing that undergirds all recovery programs is hope: People can and do recover and find healing. I know this firsthand as a child of service members who struggled with addiction, as someone who struggled—and still struggles—with it myself, and as a clinician who sees it happen every day.

My mother and father were Marines. It took a toll on them, and it took a toll on our family. It changed the trajectory of all our lives. After three active tours of combat in Vietnam, which earned him three Purple Hearts and a Bronze Star of Valor, my father developed PTSD. After years of persuasion by his family, he was treated by the VA and was able to do the work and heal and build our family back together.

My mother was not so lucky. While living on base housing in San Diego, California in 1965, my 3-month-old sister passed away.  With this tragic loss and several other traumatic factors, my mother struggled with alcoholism, PTSD, and depression. She never did get treatment, and, tragically, she died of alcoholism-related illness.

To me, this showed in stark reality that treatment works, and recovery is possible. It was too late for my mother. I hoped it wasn’t too late for me.

The children are often overlooked when we talk about military and veterans’ mental health. I didn’t realize it at the time, but my parents’ service took a toll not just on my parents, but on my older sister and me, too. My parents divorced when I was one year old. I knew about my father and talked to him throughout my childhood, but with both my parents’ resentments toward each other and their own unresolved issues—including PTSD—we were kept apart. I dealt with his absence, my mother’s alcoholism and all that entailed, and witnessed my mother’s suicide attempts as a child. Perhaps unsurprisingly, I developed an addiction, too, at the tender age of 12. It had been my dream to enlist and serve in the military, but I was turned down because of my addiction. It has been one of my greatest regrets that I did not serve.

But my greatest regret is what my addiction did to the early relationship with my daughter. It was my love for my baby daughter that led me to seek the treatment I knew I needed. I enrolled in a residential treatment program when my daughter was 3 and spent three years without her, seeing her only during visits. With her being born into my addiction, I had to do so much work. I truly learned if I wanted her to ever forgive me, I had to demonstrate that I could also forgive my parents. That was part of the work I had to do, if I were to make good on my promise to myself and my daughter that the cycle of addiction would end with me.

Now I get to be a wonderful grandparent to my beautiful, healthy granddaughter. I watch my granddaughter every Monday, and my daughter and I have a beautiful relationship. We talk every day. That is all because of the power of recovery and healing.

Helping others, especially other military families, do the same in their own lives is what drives me. For 19 years, I worked at Phoenix House, where I was once a client and began my recovery. For six of those years, I served as vice president of mental health and military services. I’ve been the senior director of the Jamaica Family Wellness Center at The Child Center since 2018. While not being able to serve in the military myself may be one of my greatest regrets, having played a role in launching Military Services at The Child Center has been one of my greatest accomplishments. I have a deep understanding of the effect of military service not just on the service members, but also on the children and the family as a whole. I am extremely proud and grateful that serving the whole family, and especially the children in their own right, is a feature of Military Services at The Child Center. This is a huge step in helping end cycles of trauma and addiction.

A deep understanding of military culture is also an integral part of Military Services, and this translates into a “no judgment” zone. As a service member, you are always expected to just get your mission and go. But if people like my mother did seek help and tell someone about their trauma, addiction, and other mental health challenges while they were happening, they might have gotten help before it was too late. As long as you are alive and breathing, there is always hope. There is always healing. There is always a way toward a fulfilling life you are proud to live. I am thankful that the military is catching up to this, and that addiction and mental health challenges no longer carry the stigma they once did. As a result, service members are increasingly getting the help they need, which benefits everyone.

Recovery Month coincides with Suicide Prevention Month, and I am proud to be part of an organization that offers many avenues through which people touched by these interrelated issues can find hope and change. The Child Center offers care and treatment on the whole spectrum, from prevention to recovery. In terms of early prevention, this can be seen in the way that even in our youth development programs, from afterschool to community centers, mental wellness is top of mind and a golden thread woven throughout programming. Sometimes that’s through explicit emphasis, and sometimes it’s just in the form of helping young people set goals, tap into their strengths, realize their potential, and engage in all the things that make life worth living. We also recently launched our School-Based Early Support program, which works by embedding our staff in the schools where children are every day to proactively support families and ensure children thrive in safe, stable, and nurturing environments. We also have partnered with Born This Way Foundation to promote the Be There Certificate, earned after an online course that teaches the public to recognize when someone might be struggling with their mental health and how to support them while maintaining their own mental health. It’s a free, self-paced, interactive online course designed for young people but accessible to all.

The Child Center also supports people of any age, including adults with or without children, at the other end of the spectrum: Those who currently are facing serious mental health challenges and require a higher level of care. For example, The Child Center Residential Treatment Facility offers a warm, supportive environment that serves young people ages 12-18 who have had multiple psychiatric hospital placements or have serious emotional disabilities and involvement with the juvenile justice system, while our Youth Intensive Outpatient Program (Youth IOP) and Bridge to Hope program serves clients in that age group who are at high risk of self-harm and suicidal behaviors, but while remaining at home with their families.

All these programs and options boil down to one crucial conviction: It is never too early or too late to intervene in a person’s life. There is always hope for recovery. I am living proof, and so are the thousands of people who have engaged in mental health and substance use care at The Child Center.

I mentioned that one of my greatest regrets is that I didn’t get to serve in the military, but one thing I learned in recovery is not to focus on regrets but on how we can move on and make amends. In that spirit, even though I didn’t serve, I feel like I am serving in my current role.

Tragically, my father passed away in 2019 (Agent Orange-related cancer from Vietnam). I am so grateful that I got to reconnect with him when I was 35 and meet my paternal family, and that I get to help people like him through my work. Every day, I get to help service members and civilians alike find hope and recovery. It’s my way of giving back.

We ended August with Overdose Awareness Day, a time to remember those whose lives were tragically cut short by addiction. I think it’s poetic that the very next day, we begin a whole month—Recovery Month—focused on hope.

Editor’s Note: If you are actively suicidal, go to your nearest emergency room or call 911. For anyone who is experiencing suicidal thoughts, addiction, or other mental health challenges, help is available.

• 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline: https://988lifeline.org/
• The Child Center of NY wellness centers: 718-358-8288