03/12/2026
Meet your Cafe host & The Sand Mountain Recovery Strategist
Hello, my name is David Wharton. I’m 39 years old, and I’ve been free from addiction for three years by the grace of God. But the road here wasn’t easy—it was long, painful, and full of darkness.
My story begins when I was just a kid. In the 5th grade, the school I attended labeled me with behavioral problems. Their solution? Medication. They told my parents I wouldn’t be allowed to continue school unless I was medicated. So, I was put on Ritalin—an amphetamine. That’s where it started: the idea that if som**hing was wrong, you fixed it with a pill. That early message shaped a dangerous belief system in me.
Not long after that, I discovered alcohol and ma*****na. By the time I was 10 years old, I was drinking and using drugs daily. At age 13, I helped my father with my first m**h cook. That’s when everything started spiraling. The mental chaos I experienced after that moment felt unmanageable—like I’d opened a door to a darkness I couldn’t close.
By the time I reached the 9th grade, I was lost. I had no social skills. I was drowning in anxiety and behavior problems. I didn’t feel like I belonged anywhere. I felt completely misunderstood. But I didn’t know how to talk about it—I didn’t have the words, the tools, or the support.
Once again, the school stepped in. This time, they said I needed more medication. By age 15, I was prescribed Xanax and Adderall—both at the maximum allowed dosages. Still believing pills would fix me, I started abusing them. And the downward spiral only got worse.
The years that followed were full of psychosis, confusion, and fear. I lost touch with reality so many times I couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t. I was diagnosed with manic depressive schizophrenia, bipolar type 1 and 2, and other mental health issues. I had constant thoughts of doom. Death followed me everywhere. I buried close friends—some from overdose, others by su***de. I was in and out of mental hospitals, court-ordered programs, and even forced to take injections like Invega.
In total, I racked up over 36 felony charges, including violent offenses and trafficking. I was living with no hope, no purpose, and no future. I had a son, and he meant everything to me—but even he wasn’t enough to stop me from falling back into the same cycles. I went through programs. I even stayed clean for two years once and worked as a staff member at a treatment facility. But I relapsed the same day I left.
You see, I had learned how to get clean, but I had never learned how to heal. I never dealt with the trauma, the root of the pain that drove me to use in the first place. I was sober, but I wasn’t free.
Then one day, I found myself sitting in the DeKalb County jail again, waiting on court referral to come do an evaluation. I already knew what they were going to say—put me back on color code and let me go in a few weeks. But som**hing in me was terrified of going back to that same life. I knew if I did, I wasn’t going to make it out alive.
That’s when Pastor Randal Ham walked into our pod. He was part of the jail ministry and he came in preaching the Word of God. And that day… som**hing shifted. I felt som**hing in my spirit move. For the first time in a long time, I felt hope. A spark. A whisper of som**hing better.
When court referral finally came and asked me what we needed to do, I told them: “Find me a real program. I need real help.”
God opened that door. They placed me in a dual diagnosis facility—one that treated both addiction and mental health. It wasn’t a faith-based program, but they offered many pathways to recovery. And I chose Jesus. I held onto the Word of God with everything in me.
Even in a secular facility, I walked the path of faith. I followed the example of Christ. I began learning how to deal with emotions, how to face trauma, how to build healthy habits. I didn’t just stop using—I started healing. And in that process, God worked miracles in me.
Under a doctor’s care, I came off every mental health medication. With discipline, knowledge, and the strength that only God can provide, I began exercising and came off every physical health medication too. God didn’t just clean me up—He gave me a brand-new life.
Today, I live with purpose. My past didn’t just disappear, but now it has meaning. God is using my pain to help others. He’s called me to reach out to the still-struggling addict and show them that recovery is possible. That freedom is real. That healing is found in Jesus Christ.
God didn’t just restore what I lost—He gave me som**hing new. A new heart. A new mind. A new identity.
Isaiah 61:3 says He gives “a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.” That’s what He did for me.
I’m not who I used to be. I’m not defined by my charges, my diagnoses, or my past. I’m defined by the One who saved me, who gave me hope when I thought I was beyond saving.
My name is David Wharton. I’m 39 years old. And I’m three years clean, by the power and grace of Jesus Christ.
If He can do it for me—He can do it for you.
