The Past

In moments of hardship, I often wondered why and how I had been cursed with the disease of addiction. Why couldn’t I have just stopped the experiment altogether at the first signs of trouble like I had seen many of my friends do? It would take almost 30 years of life before my heart was mature enough to answer those questions both from a spiritual and physical perspective.

By the time someone encounters P.O.N., AA, or prison it is likely they have had many of the same experiences with drugs and alcohol as I had. Even writing this today, reflecting on the past, I can’t help but feel like it wasn’t real, or it was the experience of a different person. I suppose that reflects how dramatic the change has been, it is almost unrecognizable. I used heroin for the first time when I was 16 years old as I watched my “friend” who was years older than me get shamed by his buddies for administering an injection to a child. It didn’t matter to me, at the time my attitude towards drugs was to take it as far as I could while I could get away with it. I thought to myself, “One day, I would grow out of this and upon my great success in the world I would be able to share my experiences and reflect on the good old times when I was a bit wild.” That may have been one of the biggest lies I had told myself, up until that point.

Soon after that, I had outstayed my welcome in my home state of Illinois. I hung out with a group of criminals and our mission objective was to steal whatever we needed to get money. We robbed houses, drug dealers, cars, and whatever shady plot we could concoct in a city of 30,000. As I grew older, my tolerance for risk and drugs increased as did the violent, angry, and alcoholic nature of my father. One night after a particularly awful exchange between my father and I, I decided to run away with a friend of mine who was under house arrest. We stole an old car and we were on our way, heading west on the interstate when I saw red and blue in the mirror. I floored it thinking we could get away. We could not, it was over.

I moved to Arizona to live with my estranged mom and managed to land a well-paying and respectable job as an 18-year-old. I was in 12-step recovery, young, sober, and happy at first. I met a girl in recovery and had not yet smashed the delusion that the drugs and alcohol were just a youthful phase. Soon I found myself even worse than before, the girl was gone, I was homeless, I was addicted to shooting up cocaine and heroin mixed. Going to prison for the first time, I had not learned enough about powerlessness. late into my second prison sentence things changed as I faced the reality that releasing from prison was scarier than the sentence.

I asked for help from a friend of mine in prison that had transformed from a prison crackhead to a beacon of light and hope. We went to an AA meeting on the yard and there was a man there who spoke of his relapse. His conundrum was that he didn’t know whether he should tell his family and break their hearts or omit his struggle and effectively lie once again. Grown men in orange talking about their feelings… I turned to my friend after the meeting and asked, “Are they all like this?” He responded, “This is what we do now brother” …

The Past

Before recovery my life was a complete mess. I had open court cases, warrants, and unresolved issues everywhere. I couldn't hold a job and to be honest most times I didn't even care to. Every single meaningful relationship that I had was without trust and ruined. My mind was held captive by shame, hopelessness, remorse, misery, bad repute, and an obsession to make fast money and to get high. As a child I experienced physical and sexual abuse many times and that really shut me off from looking at the world in a loving way. I became angry and could not express my anger in any way other than acting out. My family tried to help me, but I was not willing to open up and talk about what was going on with me. I was embarrassed to talk about it.

Those painful experiences really governed my thinking. It was impossible for me to concentrate at school, and this eventually affected my grades. Bad grades at school lowered my self-esteem even more and brought on insecurities. I tried to medicate and suppress the trauma I experienced as a child by using drugs and alcohol.

When I used or drank I would do so excessively. I felt purposeless and with no direction. At times I felt as if I was better off dead. Eventually I couldn’t stand being in school. I felt like I did not fit in and that I was not intelligent. The city I grew up in was surrounded by street gangs. I soon became attracted to and obsessed with the street gang life in Anaheim California and felt as though I would fit in there. Around thirteen I decided to join a gang and my life took a turn for the worst quickly. Before I knew it, I was stuck in a revolving cycle of crime, drugs, and incarceration. I was raised in the Orange County Juvenile Hall system. By the age of eighteen I was in a prison yard serving my first prison term of ten years. I was convinced that the only life I was destined for was one full of suffering, which brought more resentment towards God.

Years later children came into my life. Although I felt like someone like me should never have had children, I did feel extremely grateful to have them. I had children (2 boys and 2 girls) but I didn't know how to be a father. I was never present in their lives. My life was full of fear. I had no courage to step up and resolve the problems in my life that I had stacked up. I was full of resentment and couldn't find it in me to forgive. When I did have moments of inspiration, I would make a resolution to change but couldn't follow through with it. I was unable to reason, and I was impulsive (this brought many problems). Some of the lowest points in my life was when I would attempt to stop using drugs and living a life of crime for my kids and family but found myself quickly using and committing crimes again. I was hopeless. It was as if the drugs and gang always came first. The best way I knew how to cope with my shame and guilt was by using more. I was stuck and there seemed no way out.

The Past

In the past, I lacked a clear direction for personal growth. While my parents did their best, they too had their own issues that impacted me and my siblings. Consequently, I grew up without a true sense of identity and purpose, leading me to drift aimlessly in search of answers on my own.

In my early consciousness, feeling like I had nothing, I pursued pleasure as my primary motivation. I got married young, but the relationship fell apart within a few years as both of us struggled with alcoholism. After the separation, my drinking worsened, and I sank into depression. To escape this darkness, I turned to methamphetamine, finding temporary happiness and a means to avoid alcohol.

This destructive path led me to a point where I had little desire to find meaningful work, and I found myself living as a homeless person under a bridge near the freeway for several months. Despite being in this dire situation and being constantly high, a transformation began to take place.

Despite being homeless for three more years and aimlessly wandering through Sunnyslope, this period marked a significant turning point in my life. It was during this time that I began to pay attention and realize the gravity of my situation. However, I felt powerless to move forward on my own. The lifestyle I was trapped in seemed like an unbreakable bond, and I lacked the foundation and knowledge to initiate change.

As my habits worsened, I found myself sinking deeper into the clutches of the streets and drugs. Combining heroin and meth, and smoking fentanyl pills became my escape. I desperately desired something different, but the grip of the drug and street life seemed inescapable.

After a short stint in prison, I was released back into society with a newfound mindset and a chance to rebuild my life. I initially made progress, but over time, I lost connection with the support I had during my recovery journey after leaving prison. Consequently, I lost my job and was kicked out of my living situation in the same week, leaving me right back in Sunnyslope, engaging in the same destructive behavior I thought I had escaped.

Despite being on probation, I found myself repeatedly arrested for drug-related charges, and each time, I was surprisingly let go. However, during my last arrest, it felt like my life was on the line. My public defender mentioned the possibility of a ten-year sentence, which I knew would be the end of any chance for a better life.

I sat in jail believing for sure that this was the end of me. The first week was hell going through withdrawals, and if I hadn’t heard a voice tell me to wait and see what is around the corner, I would have done myself in. So, I chose to wait, dig in myself better and discover what there was to find out.