My name is Territh Collins, and things don’t always go as planned, that’s something I learned the hard way.

I was fortunate to grow up in a school system where teachers didn’t just teach subjects, they taught life. I was educated early on about peer pressure, drugs, and their consequences. Programs, lessons, and even graphic films left a deep impression on me. Because of that, I developed a strong resistance to drugs and even alcohol. I didn’t take my first drink until college.

I was athletic, but shy. Alcohol seemed to unlock a version of me people loved more outgoing, more confident. Still, I did my best to stay on the right path. I didn’t want to let down the people who invested in me. I had big dreams. I wanted to become a professional baseball player not just for myself, but to be a role model and help others.

I came close. I made a team in Richmond, Indiana the Richmond Roosters. But around that same time, my life changed forever.

Two weeks before I was scheduled to report, I lost my firstborn son due to hospital negligence. I had to bury my child.

There are no words for that kind of pain.

Still, I went to Indiana and tried to pursue my dream, carrying grief I didn’t know how to process. It rained almost the entire time I was there. Everything felt heavy inside and out. Shortly after, I injured my arm. Continuing would have meant surgery I couldn’t afford, so I had to walk away from my dream.

I returned home with a broken heart… and no direction.

What followed were years decades of depression, unresolved trauma from childhood, and silent battles with my mental health. I coped the only way I knew how at the time through alcohol and unhealthy habits. On the outside, I kept going. I held a steady job for nearly 20 years. I worked multiple jobs cleaning medical buildings, driving for Uber and Lyft. I smiled, even when I was deeply unhappy.

Then COVID hit and everything fell apart.

I lost my jobs. My stability disappeared. I faced problems at home and eventually found myself on the streets. And that’s when I was introduced to something I never thought would be part of my story:

Crack cocaine.

I became addicted.

It’s not easy to say that. For a long time, I carried the weight of shame and regret in silence. But even at my lowest, I never completely lost the belief that my life could be more than my mistakes.

Through determination, reflection, and strength I didn’t know I had, I broke free from that addiction on my own. I also chose to give up alcohol completely, not because it controlled me, but because I wanted a clean foundation for the life I was rebuilding.

In my sobriety, something powerful awakened in me: purpose.

I realized I want to help others who feel trapped the way I once did. I want to be the person I needed during my darkest moments someone who listens without judgment, understands without explanation, and believes in recovery even when someone else can’t see it for themselves.

Today, I am pursuing that calling by working toward becoming a chemical dependency counselor.

I’ve started researching programs and taking steps forward, but I am, in many ways, starting over. My financial situation is a challenge. I’ve been unemployed for the past three years not because I lack work ethic, but because life circumstances shifted drastically. Before COVID, I worked tirelessly, often holding three jobs at once, including nearly two decades with one company.

I lost stability. I lost transportation. I lost a lot.

But I never lost hope.

Today, I stand with clarity, resilience, and a renewed sense of direction. I know I can make a difference because I’ve lived through the darkness and found my way out. I am empathetic, compassionate, and I meet people where they are without judgment because I understand how life-changing that kind of support can be.

Now, I’m asking for an opportunity not just for myself, but for every person I will one day be able to help.

The only barrier standing between me and this purpose is transportation. With a reliable vehicle, I can attend training, pursue employment, and fully step into this path.

If my target amount is reached, your support wouldn’t just change my life it would allow me to help change the lives of others. I'd achieve my goal of becoming a chemical dependency counselor and it would also allow me to start on the path of get a house and opening my doors to those seeking a place to recover from addiction.

I am ready. I am committed. I just need the chance to move forward.

I am not defined by my past.

I am defined by my resilience, my growth, and my unwavering commitment to turn my story into a source of hope for others.

If my story moved you, I ask that you take a moment to support, share, or contribute in any way you can. Even the smallest act whether it’s a donation, a share, or a word of encouragement brings me one step closer to this purpose. Together, we can turn pain into purpose and help others find their way out of darkness..

Thank you Dear supporter