Tylor's Story

Growing up, I always felt like I didn't fit in anywhere. At my mom's house, I was too angry and reckless, and at my dad's house, I was too weak and insecure. I never knew how to express myself or cope with my feelings, so I tried to make myself invisible. I spoke only when I had to, wore oversized clothes to avoid attention, and did everything in my power to not stand out.

The only time I felt at peace was when I played hockey; it was my escape. But as I got older, I based my self-worth on being someone who would do anything anyone asked of me, regardless of how it would affect me personally. It was my way of having value and being wanted in people's lives. When I quit playing hockey, I lost my only escape from life and fell deeper into a depressive state.

I always knew I wanted to help others, but I never found a way to do that without hurting myself. I began to get into trouble more often and found myself spending time with people who took advantage of my desire to belong and to be valued. There came a point where I was introduced to crime and drugs. The first time I committed a crime, I felt I had found a group of people who accepted me, which quickly led to my drug use. I had no experience with drugs, so when offered, I accepted without thinking twice. It meant I was becoming more accepted and fitting in, in a way I hadn’t before. The first time I tried drugs, I felt all the fear, anxiety, depression, and care leave my body for the first time in my life. It felt like I came to life instantly and I could do anything without caring what anyone thought of me. That split second of freedom was a feeling I would chase for the next ten years, never quite finding it, no matter how much I used. My life changed completely, as did my personality. The shy, timid, respectful boy became an egotistical, fearless monster.

Day after day, my life revolved around getting drugs and committing crimes so that I could continue using. Eventually, I lost my family, true friends, and replaced them with people who would get me to do crimes for them in exchange for drugs. As much as I sought the drugs, I equally sought attention and a sense of belonging with these people who I believed understood me more than anyone else.

 My first time being arrested led to a new cycle of never-ending charges. For the next two years, I was in and out of custody, never lasting more than a couple of weeks outside before being arrested again for new charges, most of which were breaches of conditions and failing to attend court. My world had become so chaotic that even the people who used me to commit their crimes no longer wanted me around. They no longer allowed me to sleep on their couch or live in their garage. At this point, I became truly homeless, and along with that homelessness came a new feeling of helpless. I no longer cared whether I lived; I was simply surviving moment by moment.

After running out of ways to get more drugs, places to stay, and the will to live, I gave up. I found a place where I could hide and sleep, and I had no intention of ever getting up from that spot. Days later, as the drugs slowly left my body, I convinced myself to go to the hospital. To this day, I am not sure how I got there. I remember having no energy and being unsure whether I was even going in the right direction, but somehow, I made it.

At that point, I decided to give everything I had to make this work. I will forever be grateful to everyone who guided me toward that decision. Things did not get easier. In fact, they got harder because, to move forward, I had to face my fears without the drugs to give me courage. As I began to learn and force myself to speak and share my story, I found myself making meaningful friendships. Slowly, my family became willing to talk to me. I was so ashamed of who I had become and the things I had done and said to my family that I wasn't sure I could ever face them again, let alone have them forgive me and accept me back into their lives. My recovery journey was slow and painful, but it was absolutely worth every second of it.

Today, I am physically, spiritually, and emotionally healthy, and most importantly, I am happy. I have been blessed with the opportunity to give others the chance to find freedom from addiction. If it had not been for everything I went through, both the negative and positive, there is no way I would be able to serve these men in recovery the way that I am capable of today. I am beyond proud to be the Recovery Coach Team Lead at Simon House. In this role, I not only help our clients in the early days of their recovery journey, but I also guide my team to take pride in the work they do every day. It is an absolute honour when someone comes to me to ask for guidance or advice.

Recently, I have developed a class that I teach every Sunday, which nobody who knew me as a child would ever believe. To think that the scared little boy who followed anyone who would pay attention to him has now become a leader in his community and stands in front of a group of men, teaching them the tools he has learned, is nothing short of a miracle.

Simon House has given me the opportunity to do what I have wanted to do for my entire life, and that is to help people. Except now, I can use that desire to help others in a positive way and take care of my own needs while doing so.

— Tylor

Simon House