Toni Wiseman: Staying for the Miracle


Toni Wiseman: Staying for the Miracle

When you walk through the halls of CORE, it’s easy to be struck by the bright eyes and ready smiles of our clients. You see people who are engaged, hopeful, and often full of laughter. But it’s just as easy to forget the desperation that brought them here. Behind every smile is a story of addiction, broken relationships, lost opportunities, and—especially for many of our female clients—a history of deep trauma.

Some people arrive at CORE so wounded that it’s hard to imagine a way forward. And yet, time and again, we witness something remarkable. Surrounded by compassion, structure, and the unwavering support of a recovery community, these same individuals begin to heal, change, and grow. They remind us that no one is beyond hope when given the chance and the tools to rebuild their lives.

Toni Wiseman is one of these people.

We recently sat down with Toni to learn more about her remarkable recovery journey. What we heard was more shocking than surprising. Sadly, stories like hers are all too common among our clients. Even so, the strength and resilience it takes to overcome a background like Toni’s is truly inspiring. All of us at CORE are deeply proud of her and profoundly grateful for her recovery.

Toni was born into a home where religion played a central role. But when she was still young, her parents divorced. Her mother remarried – and her stepfather turned out to be a predator in the home. When Toni was just fourteen years old, he singled her out, perhaps because of her small size. Around that same time, he introduced her to drugs and alcohol, and she quickly became hooked.

This same man was both her abuser and her drug dealer. When Toni speaks about that time, she makes it clear the drugs didn’t numb the pain—they made it worse. “Drugs brought out the demons of shame and guilt,” she told us. “At first I felt hurt, and when I started the drugs, there was shame.”

She began acting out at school and at home. She was expelled in the eighth grade and never returned. For the next six years, she remained under her stepfather’s influence. During a time when most young people are discovering who they are, Toni was lost in a fog of trauma, confusion, and addiction.

Looking back, Toni says her formative years were “really messed up.”  The abuse and addiction froze her development, and she never experienced normal adolescence. Instead of hope, she lived with shame and fear. Toni grew up with a warped understanding of love, safety, and self-worth.

In her early twenties, Toni got married, hoping someone could rescue her from the pain. That marriage ended quickly, and she married again. Through it all, drugs and alcohol remained constant. “They were an issue,” she said. “They’d been an issue since I was fourteen.”

Toni tried to hold her abuser accountable, but the authorities were uninterested. The more she tried to speak up, the more push back she received. Her relationships with family and neighbors grew strained. She remembers wondering who would ever take her side. Looking back now, she sees her adult life as a long struggle to escape her past—without yet understanding what she truly needed to be free from.

When her second husband died, Toni drifted. She began couch surfing and was sometimes homeless. She continued using drugs, unable to stop and unwilling to let go of the pain. “Things got really bad,” she said. “I couldn’t go a day or a minute without some kind of substance. I was high all the time.”

Her life might have continued on that path, but then two things happened. First, her mother passed away. She too had struggled with addiction and was one of the few people who understood Toni’s pain. Second, a former CORE client saw her struggling. That former client told her about our program and, when Toni agreed to come, drove her here personally.

Toni’s first experience at CORE was short-lived. “I was here for a couple months, felt better, and wanted the people back home to see it.” But she wasn’t ready. She left too soon and relapsed. It happened again before she finally slowed down and took the suggestion of her peers to work the recovery program.

Several of our current house managers came alongside her. “I couldn’t have done it without them,” she notes, “working the 12 Steps, helping people, looking at my fears, and loving me until I could love myself.” She also learned to forgive. And when that happened, something amazing followed. “For the first time, I started living. Everything was new to me. I got a new career. I had people who rely on me, not only at my job but also at CORE.”

She says CORE helped her turn her life around. “It’s been everything to my recovery,” she said. “They opened the door and let me in when nobody else would. They believed in me, held me accountable. They saw something in me that I didn’t see in myself. And they pointed me toward God.”

Today, Toni no longer battles the obsession. She gives the credit to God:

I can trust Him today, and I can live life now, knowing that He wants good for me. I was a mess out there, in a spiritual war, although I didn’t understand that then. I wanted someone or something to save me, so I looked to drugs, to music, to men, to family, to the justice system. I stopped trying to figure it all out when I got to CORE and just looked for a relationship with God. His mercy and grace brought me through all that. I was looking to feel right inside of myself with all of those things, but I never got right within myself until I found God.”

When Toni completed our one-year recovery program, she wasn’t done yet. At the suggestion of Program Manager Kevin Hunt, she applied to join the Second Mile group. “It was about giving back,” she says. “I felt like, in my second year, I should be giving back both to the community and to CORE. I wanted to share the message.” For those unfamiliar, the Second Mile is a group of recovered clients who give back by volunteering at charity events and CORE fundraisers. Recently, they adopted Birch Road in the City of Hollister, and they keep it spotless.

Toni also stepped up within her CORE house. She started as a chore coordinator and worked her way up to a leadership role. She sees her position as one of encouragement and hope. “I want to see them stay for the miracle and see what happens—that they love God and receive forgiveness in their hearts. That they realize God’s mercy and grace are bigger than anything we can imagine.” She finds satisfaction and purpose in serving the women around her.

Toni now has 20 months in recovery. Her next goal is to become a certified drug and alcohol counselor. When asked where she sees herself in five years, her answer is clear: “Being a counselor. A drug and alcohol counselor!

We’re so pleased for Toni and her progress. CORE will always be here to support her as she works to help others find serenity and hope in recovery.

Freed by the 12 Steps


Freed by the 12 Steps

Last month, we looked at hitting rock bottom. We saw that rock bottom entails an intense isolation where the addict feels completely cut off from any source of meaning, direction, or hope. This predicament is the logical outcome of using substances to escape a reality in which the addict feels increasingly unwelcome yet refuses to accept. But drinking and drugging only take one so far in avoidance. At rock bottom, the addict reaches the end of the line, where there is nowhere left to hide. He is staring alone into the abyss of oblivion and death.

These are not happy circumstances, and there is nothing that can sugarcoat the desperation and despair of this situation.

In contrast to the stark realities of hitting rock bottom, we said something else very plainly: there is a solution!

And not just any solution. The one offered and practiced at CORE puts the individual on the path to a new kind of life, one which is rich in meaning, grounded in truth, and filled with hope. We work the 12 Step program of recovery. Not only have we solved our substance use problem, but as the AA Big Book puts it, we have been “rocketed into a fourth dimension of existence of which we had not even dreamed.” More directly:

[W]e have had deep and effective spiritual experiences which have revolutionized our whole attitude toward life, toward our fellows and toward God’s universe.”

Today, we are able to live life on life’s terms. We are reconciled, having resolved past conflicts and found peace and acceptance with others and with our circumstances. We live in harmony with the world and the people in it. Each day, we wake up with gratitude in our hearts, because the blessings of recovery are truly immense.

Among these blessings is a pervasive sense of freedom. This may not be what someone expects when they first come to CORE and begin working the Steps. But recovery holds many wonderful surprises. The depth and breadth of this freedom may be the clearest evidence that something miraculous is taking place.

First, recovery gives us freedom from obsession. The crushing mental loop that once told us we needed to drink or use in order to survive is gone. Not suppressed. Not fought into submission. Gone. We did not talk ourselves out of it or overpower it with logic. It was simply lifted. This, as much as anything, is why we in Twelve Step fellowships speak of miracles. We wake up each day free from the compulsion that once ruled our lives. We can go anywhere and be around anyone without fear. Triggers no longer exist. We no longer have to scheme, hide, or run. This freedom becomes the foundation for everything else. As our thinking clears, we begin to explore new ideas about who we are and where we belong in the world.

We have also been given the freedom to live with a clean slate. This does not mean we have forgotten the past or avoided its consequences. It means we are no longer stuck in it, no longer living in shame. We have taken responsibility, made amends where we could, and told the truth about ourselves. Rather than ruining us, honesty has set us free. The past is no longer a source of fear or secrecy. It has been placed in its proper context, and we are no longer bound to it. We feel new again, not because our past was erased, but because we no longer have to hide from it.

Recovery also gives us the freedom to connect authentically with others. In our addiction, we kept people at a distance. We did not want them to see who we really were. At the same time, we judged them harshly, expecting more than they could give. We resented them for not understanding us, even though we rarely gave them a chance. Today, we approach people differently. We no longer demand perfection. We see others as fellow travelers, not enemies or obstacles. We are honest with them because we are honest with ourselves. That changes everything. We are able to repair damaged relationships and rediscover that the best thing to hold onto in life is each other.

Another blessing is the freedom to live with purpose. For too long, our only goal had been to get through the day. That meant escaping pain, avoiding consequences, and chasing whatever drug we thought we needed. Today, we look forward to new experiences. The sky is no longer a ceiling; it is an open horizon. Opportunities begin to appear when we choose to live differently and embrace the blessings of helping others. One of the most meaningful ways we give back is by carrying the message of recovery to the still-suffering addict. Helping someone find the path out of despair and into life never grows old. We never shrug and say, yawning, that we saved another life today. That kind of service keeps our own recovery alive. It gives life meaning, not because of any personal achievement, but because being useful to others makes a real and lasting difference.

Finally, now that we have recovered, we enjoy the freedom to live with meaning. This is harder to describe, but it touches every part of our lives. Where the world once seemed cruel and random, a place to be feared, fought, or fled, we now see a bigger picture. We trust that God has a plan, even when we do not understand it. We no longer need everything to make sense in order to accept our place in it. A quiet contentment fills even the stillest moments with peace.

The freedoms of recovery do not arrive all at once. They come gradually, often quietly, as we work the Steps and begin living by spiritual principles. They are not a reward for being good, but the natural result of surrendering to a spiritual way of life and making daily progress in it.

If you are new to recovery, or struggling to believe that real change is possible, please know this: the freedoms of recovery are real. They are available to anyone willing to work the 12 Steps. You do not have to believe in all of them right now. Just take the next right step, stay with it, and the rest will follow.

And one day, you may find yourself, just as we have, living a life bigger, better, and more beautiful than you ever dared to imagine.