She worries that two of her children have followed the family tradition into alcoholism, but she's hopeful her own willingness to keep working on change will rub off, not only on them, but particularly on her grandchildren. "Once you make that complete surrender and put up the white flag, you have to do that to accept that you are an alcoholic on a daily basis.

"I'm not trying to change the world, but I can work on myself ... I give all the credit to God. Nothing I've done in the past four years has been done without him." Education and a good support system of people who believe in her are critical as well, she says.

· · · · ·

Sonya's childhood included deep poverty, racism and abandonment by an absentee father who was addicted to gambling and sexually abused her cousin and sister. Some of the dysfunction was multi-generational; much of it followed her into adult life. After leaving home as a teenager to escape the family dynamics, she ended up marrying a military man who insisted from their first date that she would be his bride.

The abuse he heaped on her for several years began before she even said "I do." He beat her over some minor irritation. "I just wanted to be done, but he apologized," and she was impressed by his education and seeming sincerity. It was short-lived. "Even on my wedding night I got beat." After her fourth child was born, they divorced, leaving her with the children and no job. She tried to hold it together, but the stress was more than she could manage.

She stopped applying her mother's moral teachings, lied to get on welfare, quit going to church and — tired of poverty — began shoplifting. She dabbled in substance abuse, then came home after partying one night to find that a boyfriend had sexually abused her daughter. Depressed and angry, she started drinking.

Gambling binges in Wendover followed, where she won — and lost — big. "Winning was the worst thing that could have happened. You think you'll always keep winning." All the while, her conscience kept pricking inside, and she often felt her deceased grandmother's presence, warning, "You're just not living right."

Somehow, she managed to take classes during that time, graduated from college, and began working at a local treatment center, where she learned that you can't recover from abuse or addiction until you get rid of the secrets. Initially, she wondered whether it was worth it because the pressure was intense to keep so much under wraps.