“There is nothing unique about me. There is nothing unique about my recovery process. Millions of other people have done it before me. The only reason to tell my story is to destroy stigma.

I just remember that the whole time I was growing up I felt like I didn’t belong. I was a white, blond, blue-eyed boy growing up in Los Lunas, New Mexico and my neighborhoods were not friendly. There was that and then, when I was nine-months old my biological father got killed in a car wreck – and even that was alcohol related so this stuff’s been in my genes for a long time. My stepfather had my little brother and my little sister. They were his blood and I was not, so I felt separate and indifferent, like I wasn’t welcome. I dropped out of school in 9th grade. Again, I felt like I just didn’t have a place, I didn’t belong.

I got caught up with the gangs when I was fifteen years old. I had a sense of belonging with them, man. I had a purpose with them. Stand up for my friends, stand up for our colors, sell drugs…I had a purpose. I got caught up in the gang violence, I got caught up in some major charges. To avoid jail, the judge let me go into the Army - at 17 years old. Infantry.

But I couldn’t escape myself. We have a saying in recovery: Where ever you go, there you are. No matter where I went, I would find the drugs. And drug use is rampant in the military. I kept missing formation. They were about to declare me AWOL. It was sad, man, because I was good at my job. I had a career path but I kept sabotaging myself. They let me get out. Discharge.

So, I get back to Albuquerque. I look myself in the mirror and there I was. I still had to face myself. I couldn’t and I fell back into what I knew. I got into drug trafficking. Things got out of hand. I ended up in jail. I got out, started working at a call center, made advanced and then…. then cocaine showed up.

This was the pattern. I’d get clean, get a job, advance, do really well then get back on the drugs, screw up, get fired, end up in jail…All of this just reaffirmed the feelings I already had. That I didn’t belong. I was worthless. I can’t be a great community member. I’m a failure.

I thought this girl would save me. I had this idea that having a child would save me. But it doesn’t work that way, man. The drugs and the alcohol took away everything that was good about me. The disease of addiction takes our thoughts and feelings and twists it up in a way that is so untrue. At one point, I was sitting in the jail and I realized that I had no relationship with anyone or anything except the drugs and alcohol.

One day, my ex sends me a picture of my son. I looked at it and broke down crying. My cellmate says: You know, I never have had the chance to raise my six kids. You do. He told me about this place called Delancey Street, a two-year recovery program. That place changed my life. Why? Because for the first time I was around people that were going to hold me accountable for what I did and what I said. These people cared for me. A few magical things happened to me. I got aware of my patterns. I realized that I had a healthy community there to rally around me. I was held accountable in a way where I didn’t lose everything. My self-sabotaging behavior broke. I started caring about other people. Peer support and my desire to provide peer support was born. Service to others.

I got out and went into the field of behavioral health . Now I work for the State of New Mexico helping others become Certified Peer Support Workers. Can you believe it?

Part of the reason I’m still here is that my family never stopped praying for me. They never stopped believing in me and working for me. Today my mom gets to sleep and sleep well. She doesn’t have to worry if her son is alive or not. We have so much potential in this life, we just have to turn it loose. Today I’m living a quality of life that is beyond my wildest dreams.”  

– August 2022