Remember where you came from

Habili-blog 9/24/18
“Remember where you came from”
by Jared Mayes

Remember isn’t synonymous with relive.

I remember the struggles of my addiction for one reason and one reason alone. So that I know exactly where my choices are capable of taking me and to ensure I never go back to that life. The woe is me card got taken out of my deck long ago and I refuse to stoop down to the level of feeling sorry for myself. I try not to write about personal experiences of the past, but I feel that sometimes hearing the story of others might just hit a string with someone and give them courage to reach out for help.

I remember the last week before I came to Habilitat very vividly. Me and my girlfriend were currently residing in the depths of Downtown Salt Lake City Utah after a miserable car ride starting with extreme dope sickness and ending with the both of us jumping out of the car at a stop light, skipping out of the nonexistent gas money we had promised upon getting picked up from this unsuspecting stranger. After wearing out all the petty “jobs” and burning enough street level dealers it was time for us to disappear once again. We caught a ride to California with enough cash and dope in our pockets to keep us healthy till we reached our destination.

Looking back, I don’t think that our gypsy lifestyle was ever about running from the current snafu we found ourselves in but more about trying to outrun ourselves.

We arrived at our destination in Sacramento where of course the plan was to continue our Bonnie and Clyde adventure. This time however was different. Within a couple days I was tired. Not just sick and sleep deprived, but to my core I was tired. Step one for a junkie in a new city is to get as close to the local homeless shelter as quickly as you can. There you work your way into the hierarchy of the underworld. It’s odd how universal the look of a junkie is and how I prided myself on the fact that I very rarely got questioned or doubted in my quest to score dope.

As I walked down the crowded sidewalk it was probably around 11:00 PM. We stepped over men sleeping underneath blankets and walked around makeshift houses that lined the pathway to our ultimate goal of finding that momentary relief. The scent of urine and decaying trash told us we were getting close. I find it incredible sometimes that I allowed this to be a part of my everyday life when I was raised in a good home with a caring family. I remember reflecting on this and becoming sick to my stomach. An overwhelming sickness that made me question my invincibility that I had always credited my survival to.

Shivers ran down my spine as I overwhelmingly knew that I would soon be dead from this drug.

I was teeter tottering on the fact that I had to in that instant decide if I wanted to accept my fate and fulfill my ill-fated destiny or change it. I knew then that I had to lay to rest and bury my addiction so that my family wouldn’t have to instead bury me. We managed to find ourselves in a rundown hotel for the night where I stayed up most of the night researching how to get help. I had never gone to a rehab before, so I was very naïve to the process. After a few hundred calls and a few hundred denials I was getting disheartened.

It’s very hard to find funded programs when you have no residency and haven’t even been in one state long enough to even qualify for the governments “help.” The rest of the programs needed my non-existent medical insurance or wanted me to drop off my secret bags of money and gold bars that I most definitely didn’t have. Although I do not agree with the current availability for a drug addict to find help, I’ll save that for another day. The point is I found quite possibly the only program in the nation that was able to help a homeless junkie gypsy.

I was given an opportunity that I will never forget.

We are so quick to replay these movies in our heads that reflect our life which evoke negative emotions. I don’t know about you, but I don’t sit around on my free time and watch movies that I know I hate. The only reason I remember those movies even exist is so that I know to never subject myself to watching them again. I know we as humans have a flair for the dramatic, but the movie I watch today has a happy ending.