After eight jail visits, four rehabs, one sober house attempt, IOP’s, hospitals, etc., I found myself crying, detoxing, sleep deprived, living out of my car, and unable to get high anymore; no longer capable of living the life I was living. There seemed no way out. Parked outside of my mom’s house at 1 o’clock in the morning, I was begging her to let me come in so I could have a bed to sleep in. Begging her to just sit with me and hold me in her arms like she once did when I was a kid, a place I remember that was so warm and safe in comparison to the dark, bitter, and cold place of my life I ended up in. She refused to let me in to her house and rightfully so; she also refused to come talk to me, to come sit with me and hug me. She wanted nothing to do with me. I called my sister and made the same request, she said no. I wasn’t a brother to her anymore; I was a burden. At this point there was only one option left to me and that was to end this pitiful excuse of a life… but I couldn’t do it. “What do I do?” I asked myself repeatedly over and over again, screaming to something that could have been out there “WHAT DO I DO!” That was the longest most terrifying night of my life.
The next day I ended up on the front door of a sober living house owned by Mr. Cadoux (A fellow co-worker of mine now and dear friend here at TLR) I had tried this sobriety deal before I thought to myself, ‘why would it work for me?’ I hadn’t ever really tried. I stood on this front door step a desperate 19 year-old having suffered from a serious ass whopping from drugs and alcohol and had nothing left to lose.
The next two weeks were spent detoxing, shadowing a recovery coach every single place he went to, going to CA and AA meetings, going to court for pending cases, UA’s, breathalyzers, looking for a job; no one thought I was going to make it. Quite frankly I wasn’t so sure of myself either, but I was content each night with having a home to go to at the end of the day and a bed to sleep in. This quickly became not enough. I was miserable. Being clean and miserable is not a very fun place to be in; being sober and miserable is a terrifying place to be in. Lying awake that night, I prayed. I prayed to something and asked for courage, I asked for bravery, I asked for motivation to do something different than I had ever done before. The next morning I woke up early, I went to the noon meeting I had been going to for a few days now and met a woman named Revette. We did not appear to be a likely match; Revette was a 50 year- old heavy set black woman that smoked crack for 30 years (longer than I had been alive) and had been sober for 13 long ass years. I listened to her, she spoke in a way and with a tone that I could pay attention to. All I ever wanted in this deal was to stop getting what I had always got, and in turn, something like what this woman had. She has been a light to me in the world of utter misery that I had come from. With her guiding me through the steps that were laid at my feet this whole time, some pretty miraculous things started to happen.
Throughout the last year and a half I’ve obtained my GED, I’ve gone to school to get my substance abuse counseling degree, and I’m allowed back at my mom’s house. The first time I was invited to her house I would knock on the door and wait for her to answer. One of the coolest experiences I’ve had was 6 months into this deal my mom answered the door and told me I didn’t need to knock anymore, that I could just come on in. My sister calls me every week asking how I’m doing and for my advice on things going on in her life. I have a bank account with money in it! I’ve met some people in my life that are like brothers to me, real life-long friends. I stayed in sober living for over a year and recently moved into an apartment with a brother in recovery. I have a girlfriend that is perfect in my eyes, someone I can love dearly today, knowing there was a time when I couldn’t even love myself. Sounds like good stuff, right?
I have a job that I can’t wait to go back to each day at The Last Resort. It’s a job where I get to be that same light at the end of the tunnel that others were for me. I choose to believe in a God of my own understanding. I’m incredibly grateful for the path that was laid before me and the path that I was able to put my feet on and start moving. Without any of this I don’t know where I would be but it most definitely wouldn’t be sitting here writing my story.
– Tyler A. (Tech at The Last Resort)