Russ's Story

I am the youngest and only surviving child of a fairly big family. Growing up, my parents were complete opposites. My father was hard-working and never drank. Regardless of how hard things got, I never saw him touch a drop of alcohol. My mother, on the other hand, was different. As a survivor of the Residential School System, she had struggled with alcohol her whole life. When I was a few months old, she gave me up, and I resented her and her decision for years. In reality, that was probably one of the best things she did for me. 
 
My younger years were spent like most other kids in the 80s — riding around on my bike or building tree forts with friends from the neighbourhood. This was a time long before the chaos of today's cell phones and social media. But as I grew older, I became more aware of alcohol and its’ presence in my life. My weekend and holiday visits with my mom taught me how alcohol could affect people. While my mom had warned me many times not to drink her ‘special pop,’ I was curious. I would wait until all the adults would either pass out or be too drunk themselves to care if I started drinking. Then, I’d pick up cans or bottles of beer and drink them quickly. I hated the way it tasted, but I loved the way it made me feel. This quickly became a habit that would make the next 30 years a struggle.
 
Over time, my drinking habit resulted in my expulsion from school and led me deeper into a world of drug dealing and violence. Young Offender Centres soon became my second home. In all this chaos, I became a father at 16. You would think that this would be enough to smarten me up, and in one way, it did, it made me smarter about not getting caught.
 
Selling drugs was the only way I was able to provide for my young family, but, after another stint with young offenders, my son was taken away. I had lost everything. At this point, I fell deeper into my addiction. Not only was I an alcoholic, but I was also addicted to a variety of drugs I was selling. I became involved in a gang and was a member for a number of years before life finally caught up with me. 
 
At 19, I was sentenced to 5 years in prison. I finally had a chance to be clean and sober, but as soon as I was released, I found myself in the same situations as before, and, in no time, I was using again. Years passed, and I moved in and out of homelessness. I was never homeless for long as I always had a pocket of drugs that could help keep me off the streets. But as time went on, my health began to deteriorate. At one point, I was even admitted to the hospital for four months due to the damage I had been doing to my heart. 
 
While my body healed, my mind still suffered from spiritual sickness. I was back at it again, until I was re-admitted once more, this time on life support. This cycle repeated itself to a point where my doctor finally said to me that the next time I arrived in this condition, it wasn’t likely that I would leave the hospital alive. 
 
On the day I was to be released, I shook with fear. A hospital social worker visited and asked me what my plan was once I was allowed to leave. A scared little boy’s voice inside me blurted out the words that would save my life,” I NEED HELP, I DON'T WANT TO DIE.” Shaking, I asked, “Can you help me get into detox?” She returned 20 minutes later and told me that a taxi was on the way, that I should get ready, and that I would be on my way to detox. 
 
For the past year, I’ve held onto a pamphlet given to me by a nurse at the hospital. She handed it to me after I was taken off life support and told me that it was something I should really take into consideration. I called that number on the pamphlet twice a day, until it finally paid off, and my call was returned. I had it set in my mind that this place —Simon House— was where I was going to get better.
 
When I first came to Simon House, I was told that you only get out what you put in, so I took in everything that Simon House had to offer. While in treatment, I finally came to understand that I was worth so much more. My sponsor still reminds me of just how serious a life-or-death situation I was in.
 
I'm proud to say that I have now been sober for close to a year and that my life is now ‘recovery-based.’ I no longer suffer from the spiritual malady that I once did. I have a purpose once again. Each day I am grateful to be alive, and I don’t take anything for granted. I will continue to help others find recovery in the same way that others have helped me. My name is Russ, and I am an alcoholic and addict in recovery. 

—Russ