I have to do the work every day and stay sober every day. I can do it because of the support of Good Shepherd.

I have to do the work every day and stay sober every day. I can do it because of the support of Good Shepherd.

I have to do the work every day and stay sober every day. I can do it because of the support of Good Shepherd.

I have to do the work every day and stay sober every day. I can do it because of the support of Good Shepherd and all the donations and the help that everyone here has given.”

I grew up in Niagara. I came from a good home. My family gave me a good work ethic. But I grew up with a mental illness, so I struggled. My addiction issues started when I was around 14 years old. I felt like I had a hole inside my heart. Something was always missing and the only way to fill it was to use drugs.

In my 20s, I worked full time, I had a place, I had a son. But I let drugs destroy everything. I was 26 or 27 years old when it all fell apart. I’m 37 years old now.

I learned about Good Shepherd’s DARE Program about five years ago, when I came to do treatment in Toronto and DARE helped. After treatment, I went back to Niagara, but I was homeless and lost and I relapsed.

I survived because of two workers in the methadone clinic I attended in Niagara. One of them did my laundry, the other gave me food. When I wanted to try treatment again, they paid my ride to Toronto from Niagara.

I slept my last night in Niagara next to a dumpster. I woke at six in the morning, and I cried my eyes out. I called Mike in DARE at 8:30 in the morning and he answered. I said I was on my way to detox and was I welcome at DARE afterwards. He said “Yes!”

It’s a miracle I’m here. I’ve had more than 30 overdoses. My son’s mother is dead. Most of my friends are dead. And they died because they were doing the same thing I was doing.

When I was on the streets, the people I hung out with were annoyed when I started panicking and getting distraught. Nobody wanted to hear about it, I was annoying them, they told me to shut up. So, I did.

A couple of days after I arrived, I was lying in my bed in the DARE Program. I had a flashback, and it all came back and I had a panic attack. I went into the office with the counsellors and I closed the door. I said, “My life is unmanageable, and I see death coming.” I said, “Please, please, please save my life. I can see death coming. I am willing to do anything. Please.” And the three of them went above and beyond to support me.

The way I think of it is, I have been given a gift, and that gift is called desperation. When I was desperate enough to do anything to change, I started to change.

My sponsor in Alcoholics Anonymous told me I needed to do something difficult — I needed to believe in a power greater than myself, that I needed to have faith. I started to pray in the morning and at night. At treatment, I learned about Cognitive Behavioural Therapy, mindfulness, and journalling. I realized I was looking for something outside me to change me.

People asked me where I was going after treatment — and my plan was to go back to the Good Shepherd. And they said, “That’s a step in the right direction.”

The DARE Program gives me everything I need. It gives me the ability to work my program. The staff understand me. They’re helping me find housing. The thought of getting into housing made me realize I’ve been homeless for about 10 years.

For the past 10 years, I was not employable. And now I’m having job interviews, I have opportunities.

By the grace of God, I am still alive, I don’t have a chronic disease. I feel like I’ve been given this opportunity and maybe I can make something of my life.

I’d love to be able to give back what was so freely given to me. I am taking roles of service, giving back as much as I can.

I was afraid I’d never be able to feel the way I feel. I have to do the work every day and stay sober every day. I can do it because of the support of Good Shepherd and all the donations and the help that everyone here has given.

I am very grateful that I have been given this opportunity to be sober and be alive.