Thanksgiving Milestone

H is for Hope

November 2011 - It has been seven years since that terrible time in my life and I would like to share the hope I have in Jesus Christ. He is the God who can rescue us from any fate, peril, or plight, even if it is our fault. The mercy that is given because of the death and resurrection of the Lord Jesus is incomprehensible. I have many scars on my body and I am still reaping the physical consequences of that lifestyle. My mind which is defiled with horrific memories serves as a reminder of what sin has to offer. But my soul is healed and my spirit restored into an everlasting inheritance preserved in heaven until I meet Him face to face. KNOW GOD

H is for Happy Thanksgiving!

It had been so cold in the van we were staying in, and it was only November. “I am cold, tired of living, and dehydrated.” I said to whoever would listen. Perhaps God was listening, waiting for me to ask for help. I was experiencing heroin withdrawal. Addicts call this being "dope sick". To make it worse, the living conditions I was under were once again reflecting the true colors of the heroin lifestyle. Just imagine trying to live in a van with up to four people. Now add to the mix poor hygiene, dirty clothes, and poor sanitation.

I woke up Thanksgiving and the only place that we could get any dope was about 3 miles away. I wanted to walk, but between being dope sick and my other physical maladies, I decided to call a cab. It cost ten dollars and that cut into the amount for the dope. I went to this lady’s house that I only met the day before. After the cab dropped me off, I stared around at the corners of the street. I was looking for a blue house. Easy I thought, when getting directions over the phone an hour earlier. It seems like nothing comes easy in this madness of a life. I didn’t see any blue house and I wondered if I was on the right block. Panic started to set in. I was going from house to house knocking on doors. The first house, nobody was home, or at least they weren’t answering the door. Perhaps they were expecting a long lost relative for dinner that day, but saw me instead.

It was about 10:00 am and besides all this, I looked terrible. Believe me, nobody wanted me as a guest that day. The next house that looked like it might resemble what I remember hearing on the phone was on the opposite side of the street from the first house. As I approached, I noticed that beneath the old shingles and overgrown brush, I saw some faded blue paint. This has to be it, I furiously knocked and a man came to the door. All of a sudden, I couldn’t remember the lady’s name. He said the woman I was looking for was in the next room. She was lying across the bed and gazed up at me as I entered this typical flophouse. There were several other people lying around, so I thought they had better have some dope left to sell me. She said, “I don’t have a full gram, so I will give you the rest later.” Yea right, I thought. I said, “Well, I don’t have the full amount either, since I had to take a cab over here." So, we exchanged hands, her dope for my cash. I got outside and looked at the package closer. It was smaller than I was planning on which was very typical.

I was supposed to go back and get Louie well. There wasn’t enough for both of us, there was barely enough for one person. I had brought all the stuff I needed to fix. It was cold and blistery out. It also had started to rain some. I went directly across the street and sat under these bushes. Now my concern was that; it wasn’t very good dope or it wasn’t dope at all. I had no reason to believe she would stiff me at this point, but a heroin addict gets very paranoid, and for good reason. I smelled it and it had that undeniable fragrance, sort of like vinegar, it was heroin. Because I was feigning so bad, I didn’t care if any one could see me or not. I realized I was right in front of someone’s’ house. I fixed it and shot it into my upper leg, hip area, but in front of my body. My backside was very sore and tender and yet like badger skin, it was tough, because of black tar heroin being shot into that region for so long. I didn’t think about Louie at all, only the story I would tell him later. I didn’t really owe him anything and nevertheless I didn’t care. I just needed and wanted to get well.

After getting well, I headed back toward where the van was parked. I knew that although I didn’t feel that bad, it was only a matter of time before I would be sick again. I was passing on Hewitt Avenue and there was someone coming out of a building saying to me there was Thanksgiving day dinner inside. I wasn’t very hungry. After some hesitation I went in. I was destined to be a guest after all. To my surprise, some friends I knew from Marysville were putting on the dinner. Richard and Judy Hoff had come to visit me about nine months before as I lay in an Everett hospital. They had relocated Life Changes Ministry to Everett.

They were very glad to see me. After forcing down a wonderful meal everyone had helped prepare, Richard and Judy asked if they could do anything to help me. I said, “Yes please pray for me”. Of course, we will do that, but can we help you in any way? I knew this was my chance. Two things I knew for certain; I knew if I told them the whole truth (although they knew) about what was going on with me, they would really help, not just send me down the road somewhere else. I also knew that if I decided to turn from the way I was living that Jesus Christ would then empower me. I was so miserable and depressed. I was hurting in every way imaginable, and yet I was unwilling to completely getting off this crap.

I kept eyeing a tip jar they had for the free espresso coffee they were serving. I gave into the temptation to take some money out if given the opportunity. I waited for a chance, it came and I got about $20. I excused myself from the building for a smoke and then left. I was told much later that Judy, as well as Cindy was crying as I left that day. Not because of my stealing the money, but because I left to continue in my addiction. Of all people, I should know that by passing up a chance to get help and walking away could be the last time anyone sees you alive. I ended up buying a little dope within about two hours. I shared it this time with Louie. It seemed so good to have, but it only lasted a few hours. I was still dirty, cold and sick, living my hell.

H is for Hell

It was Friday, the day after Thanksgiving. This was the day, the biggest shopping day of the year. Jason came knocking on the van door at about 3:00 a.m. saying that he was back. “I need some dope”, I murmured. I’ll be back in the morning he said. At about 8:00 Jason and I went to his friend’s house in Lowell. Without to much ado he got me well. Jason also had a change of clothes for me. I couldn’t bring myself into the shower, so I washed up in the sink the best I could. Street people call this a “whore bath”. Like other street lingo, not to complementary. I was very weak and felt like I should be in the hospital again. I was hoping the dope I just took was enough to make it through a series of thefts we had planned. We had the chance to make enough today to last us a few days, maybe get ahead. It was always hard for me to save dope for later on. Even though I knew it was a necessity.

Well we set off, with great expectations. I didn’t realize the store we hit so often was waiting for me. They had me on videotape several times in the act spanning over the last couple of weeks. To me it was a “gold mine” with so many people in the store, how could they watch everyone? Well, they didn’t have to; they just had to watch me. I found out later there was three of them on my tail. One guy grabbed me outside the store. I knew that going to jail this time I wouldn’t get out any time soon. I was already out on a PR bond, didn’t show up for court on another charge, and besides this theft today was a felony because of the dollar amount. It was a busy day for police too; I waited for about 2 hours for them to come for me. The officer was a woman; she checked out my wounds and decided to take me to the hospital first for clearance.

How fitting on the day after Thanksgiving to go “cold turkey”, a term that was given for heroin withdrawal. It refers to the large goose pimples you get on your flesh when suffering through the pangs of withdrawal. When I finally got to jail, I knew the routine. I wasn’t looking forward to being sick. My depression and fear was so great, I didn’t see this as an opportunity, or an answer to prayer. I had been through this sickness before, all the way through. You feel like you want to die. It is hard to put into terms or an expression that can fully describe what one goes through. I will try my best to give it the full justice it deserves. These are the many thoughts you have due to the craving for heroin. Along with this comes the double-minded self-will. Wanting off the drug, but not willing to give up whatever pleasurable feeling you are seeking and so hard to obtain. Just like a vapor, it eludes your grasp. When you can’t fulfill these cravings, it turns into nothing less than torment. Being a heroin addict is a very grueling hardcore life; I don’t wish it on anyone, and certainly not on me, ever again

The above edited excerpt was taken from the free online book HELL UNLEASHED