Dedicated to Those I Love

For over a year now, I have been living a sober life, gaining back the self esteem, hope, spirituality and the sacred relationship with my family that I abandoned while trapped inside the insanity of my drug addiction. And while I will never get back the years that I was out on the street using and selling drugs, panhandling and breaking my mother's heart, I will always remember and hold close to my heart the kindness of a few souls who recognized my struggle and who gave me the tools I needed to dig myself out of my own personal hell. To those people I pledge this: your kindness, and your belief in me will always be remembered. And I will spend the rest of my life giving away the gift of sobriety that I've been graced with. After all, I cannot keep that which I'm not willing to give others. This is the story of my journey.

Consider this:
"I try to remember now that the people I meet in the course of my day are as close to God as I am ever going to get while on this earth. I need to pray for knowledge of God's will today, and see how my experience with hope and pain can help other people; if I can do that, I don't need to search for humility, it has found me."--Anonymous

The Accident
Even though it seemed surreal at the time, I remember it vividly. I met Bob that weekend on the sex line and we spent several hours doing meth and fucking like rabbits. Monday morning, the meth was gone and so was Bob. I never expected to see Bob again after that. Such was the way of my relationships after Howard died, great sex and a short-lived drug high.

I was still wide awake and tweaking from regular slams of meth after three days and so, it never occurred to me that going out to run errands on the third or fourth day of being awake was anything but normal. So, I set out to buy dog food.

It was a crisp, sunny, beautiful day in San Francisco with lots of street activity, so on the way to the market I took in a couple of sidewalk sales. As I stepped off the curb to cross the street, I saw the silver Mazda heading for me, knowing full well it was too late to get out of the way. I thought to myself, "This is going to happen." I turned to face the vehicle, the bumper clipped my left shin just below the knee, forcing it to bend backwards and breaking both bones in my lower leg. Somewhere inside the instant chaos, my face slammed into the hood, breaking my glasses in two at the bridge and sending the pieces flying in different directions. I felt the sensation of flying myself, but it was actually the force of impact throwing me through the air. I' landed on the street, shattering my hip and femur like a crystal vase being thrown against a brick wall.

The next thing I remember was hearing, "CALL 911!" and a man and a police officer crouching over me. My head was in a pool of blood and although I felt no pain, my legs felt contorted and frozen. The cop was saying, "Hang in there buddy, you're going to be fine, just don't look at your legs, keep your eyes on me. What day is today?" "August the 8th, why?", I replied. "Who is the president?" he asked. "Bill Clinton," I said, thinking to myself, "Does this idiot live in a cave?" He repeated those same two questions 8 times. I finally got impatient with him and sharply pointed out that, "If you write down my answers, you won't have to ask me those questions again." That brought a round of laughter and the cop looked at his partner laughing and said, "He's still with us." Suddenly I looked at him with a look that was as serious as a heart attack and barked, "I have to go home and feed my dogs."

After the laughter died down, the ambulance arrived. I have to say that you have serious thrill issues if you think riding through the hills of San Francisco with two broken legs and a concussion with the siren blaring is fun. The pain hit me as soon as they picked me up and put me on the gurney. I spent the entire trip screaming at the top of my lungs and after what seemed like hours, we finally arrived at the hospital's trauma center and burst into the emergency room where a team of people began working on me. I saw the IV enter my arm and then, I left the planet, oblivious to the fact that the doctors had completely overlooked my badly broken left leg.

I heard my mother's gentle voice saying, "Wake up sweety, I love you." Her beautiful face was smiling down on me. And while she was comforting me with that look she always gave me when I was a child and sick with the flu, I asked her, "Mom, what are you doing here?" Laughing through tears she said, "We almost lost you, Joe boy. You've been asleep for 2 days now." The pain and anguish that Mom was suffering from my addiction shown clearly in her eyes. That was the moment I realized my life was changed forever.

John's Story
Paul's Story