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I was raised in a broken family, my father was an alcoholic and my mother was a bartender. I drank alcohol for the first time at 8 and I used drugs for the first time when I was 9. Arguments among my parents were almost daily, and physical and mental abuse was a way of life.
My father left us when I was 11 years old and my mother was left to raise my brother and I. Looking back now I realize that my mom did the best she could to raise us, but we grew up with very little.
I began rebelling and running away; I wanted the family the other kids had, so I made up my own. I didn't want to be different, I didn't want to feel confused or hurt and the only thing that made those feelings go away were drugs and alcohol. That was my answer. As I look back i realize how wrong I was, But at that time I felt like a victim and that was my reality. I used meth on a daily basis at 13 years old, and began criminal activity soon there after.
I stole every thing I could get my hands on. Whatever it took to stay high. My mother couldn't handle my behavior any more so I was kicked out of her house at seventeen.
I was alone, lost and didn't want to feel the pain anymore, I thought Why me? My drug abuse got worse and so did my lying and criminal activity. I lived in a closet at my friends house for 7 months, I had to sneak in late at night and leave early in the morning because his mother wouldn't allow me (the "bad" kid) in their house. He moved to Florida that summer and I was homeless once again.
My crimes began getting worse after that. I stole a few cars and did a few breaking and enterings. Whatever it took to get the drugs I needed so I wouldn't have to feel. I was arrested twice when I was 17. I lied about my age and who I was to get out of both of those situations.
My life got progressively worse over the next 5 years. At 23 years old I couldn't hold a steady job because my drug use was completely out of hand. Whenever I wasn't high, it hurt so bad I wanted to die. I lived in a friends' car for 4 months. Even though he was my best friend, my life was so bad that even he wasn't safe. The first chance I got, I stole 350.00 from him and decided I was leaving town, without looking back. I stole from every family member I had and every friend who tried to help me. I thought I could never go back.
In my heart I wanted help but there was nowhere to go, no one to turn to. Crime was all I knew.
Within a year I was doing my first sentence in prison for 2 counts of sales of a controlled substance. I learned a lot in prison. I learned how to cook drugs, and a few other slick tricks to survive on the streets. I also learned to fight.
Upon release it wasn't long until I was running again. Within a year, I was in prison again, this time in another state, serving another 4 years. I learned more ways to survive in the only life style I knew.
I was released from prison in 1994 and met my future wife in a bar. She was a bartender and I was an addict and an alcoholic. We were married within a year and our whole marriage for 6 & 1\2 years was lies and manipulation. I knew nothing about how to be a husband, a friend or a father; I was a liar, a thief, and a cheat. I was verbally abusive and felt I could never come clean, I couldnt tell the truth because who could ever love someone like me? I was a nobody. So it just continued...
And finally ended here in Seaside in december of 2002. My drug abuse was completely out of hand. We would live in an apartment or house until the utilities were shut off, or we were evicted, and forced to move. We couldn't afford food or presents for our kids. When my wife borrowed $70.00 to get the kids presents for Christmas, I tried to talk her into buying drugs with the money and giving the kids an I-O-U as a present.
The day after Christmas I was homeless again, with a restraining order soon to follow. With no money, no drugs and homeless, I truly wanted help, but where could I go With no money for help? there is nowhere. No one provides help for people like me, so I continued in the only way I knew to survive. Breaking the law, and by this time in my life, I didn't care if I got caught, because I just wanted a bed and a meal. Crime was a win-win situation. I attempted suicide within a week and that didn't work either. I was crying for help with nowhere to get it. I was arrested the following day and I broke down asking, Please help me. I was sick and tired of being sick and tired.
One of the officers who came to talk to me the day I was arrested knew very well how devastating drug addiction can be. He looked at me and said, You're not a bad person. You're just sick. he reached in his pocket, and gave me $5 dollars. Get something warm to eat, and then go get some help.
I have been clean and sober since, and have been fortunate enough to change my life with a 12 -step recovery program and have accepted christ as my personal savior.. I haven't used a drink or a drug in almost 4 years, and I have God in my life. Most important, I have a mission to help the suffering addict. That is how this program began, and now there is a place to go when you reach that point of desperation in your life. That is how we came up with our motto: We know how you feel.
One thing i want to add to my story is that in the 25 years i used meth i never woke up saying i want to be a drug addict today. It was all i knew and if in that time i was offered a way out i would of took it.
Our jails are full of people who need help, but without teaching them that there is something different, a real chance at life, we are definitely going to need more jails. A lot more jails. Through my experience, I feel we need to shift our focus to rehabilitation, prevention, education and awareness. I believe that every addict wants help; they just don't know how to get it.
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