Still Here: How Kira Found Herself Again at Advanced Dallas

Kira Green once believed she was beyond saving. Years of addiction had slowly pulled her life apart. Her health declined. Her sense of purpose disappeared. Most painfully, her relationship with her children slipped away. At just 98 pounds and emotionally exhausted, she could not imagine a way forward.

“I said there’s not even any point anymore,” she recalls. “God doesn’t love me.”

She was wrong. Not only about God, but about herself.

This effort is a partnership between ADHS and Landmark Hospitality Group, with collection points at all ADHS hospitals and clinics as well as participating Landmark restaurant locations. Donation boxes are already in place, and we are grateful to everyone who has stepped up so far.

Before arriving at Advanced Dallas Hospitals and Clinics, Kira lived minute to minute. Pills and alcohol dictated her days. Whatbegan gradually turned into a cycle she could not escape. The deeper she sank, the less she cared about anything at all cared about anything at all.

“I didn’t even know how to care anymore,” she said. “I felt empty.”

That emptiness did not go unnoticed. Kira’s father, himself a recovering addict, recognized the signs even when she tried to hide them. He reached out to Kerry Rickner, a team member at Advanced Dallas.

“She’s lost her babies,” he told her. “That’s what’s wrong with her.”

Kerry listened. Then she acted.

Driven by a feeling she still struggles to explain, Kerry tracked Kira down. “Something inside me wouldn’t let it go,” she said. “I knew I had to find her.”

When Kira arrived at the detox unit, she was barely there. She remembers little from those early days. Withdrawal, exhaustion, and hopelessness clouded everything. She admits she was difficult. She wanted to leave. She pushed people away.

“They wanted to kick me out,” she says with a small laugh. “I wanted to go. I was mean.”

The detox team focused on keeping her safe and stable. Structure replaced chaos. Support replaced isolation. Medication helped quiet the constant storm inside her body. Kerry stayed close, checking in often and reminding Kira that she was not alone.

Slowly, something changed. Not all at once. Not easily

“There was still something in me saying this wasn’t right,” Kira said. That quiet voice grew stronger. When it did, she chose to listen.

Not long after, Kira found a job at Subway. Without transportation, she walked nearly two hours to work and two hours back every day. When Kerry saw that determination, she made a decision. During aFaceTime call while Kira stood inside Walmart, she told her, “Pick out the bike you like.”

That bike became more than transportation. It was freedom. Kira began riding to work. She followed a schedule. She showed up on time. For the first time in her life, routine gave her something addiction never had.

Discipline.

Waking up early. Going to work. Sticking to a plan. Those simple acts helped her feel human again. Somewhere beneath the weight of addiction, she had always known that structure mattered. Now she was living proof of it.

Kira is also rebuilding her most sacred bond. Motherhood.

She now has regular visits with her daughters. “It feels good,” she says. “But I know I have a lot of making up to do.” When temptation creeps in, she thinks of them. That thought alone is enough to stop her.

“Advanced Dallas helped me realize I’m not living for myself anymore,” she says. “I’m living for my children.”

Today, Kira is sober. She is working. She rides her bike. She is present in her own life. Her story is not finished, but this chapter is oneshe never thought she would get to write.