Cold, uncomfortable, unsafe. These were among the feelings I experienced while being homeless in Detroit, Michigan. Winters are long in the Midwest, and living in the shelter is no respite from the frigid temperatures you are forced to brave while the shelter is shuttered for much of the day. There is the difficulty of finding a soft place to sit or sleep—an aggravating experience that now makes me very grateful to have a warm bed at night. And vulnerable. The mean, dark streets of a big city present one with that vicious dichotomy: how do I buy my drugs and not get killed.
Homelessness was certainly a product of my drug use; but it wasn’t necessarily the worst part of my addiction. So many terrible things led up to it. Horrible fights with my partner while we were high, which often led to a visit from the Police. Misery when we didn’t have the substances—and, of course, even when we did. Bouts of psychosis, characterized by audible hallucinations and wrenching paranoia. Isolation, one of the primary indicators addiction is taking place, gradually cut me off from my family, friends, and all social interaction. And, finally, eviction from my apartment because we didn’t pay the rent and were too crazy to be part of the community.
My days of painful living caused by addiction may be behind me, but only as long as I take my recovery program seriously. Going to meetings, reading recovery literature, connecting with a sponsor on a regular basis, and living in a sober home are all enabling me to transition away from a life of wretchedness and loss. While I am responsible for maintaining my own sobriety, Peace and Purpose is a place where I have been able to find some serenity.