I was 19 months old when my father died. I was blamed for his death by my grandmother and as a result I shut my emotions down. At 5 years old I was prescribed Ritalin. By 6, I was hanging at the commune with my babysitter after school. I was used as an experiment and given doses of LSD. The sixties were a blur of concerts and drugs -- THC, LSD and weed predominantly.

In the seventies I started to deal to support my habit. I entered my first recovery meeting at 13 years old because I was bleeding to death behind a McDonalds from 3 ulcers.

I graduated in 1977 and went to college were I majored in dealing and using. I reentered the program and my first treatment center that year as well. I quit drinking and substituted weed. Life became getting and finding ways and means to get more. I re-entered college in 1980 and studied and partied. I left college in 1983 and proceeded into my career as a dealer. I started to mule it around for anyone willing to pay. My drug of choice was anything that got me a buzz.

I lied, stole, cheated, conned and sold myself to get whatever I could. My existence became one of living on the streets and I was reduced to the animal level. In 1989 I almost killed my family just to get one more.

I was done and I attempted to try and get into a treatment center. At 15 days clean I was finally accepted. I was 96 pound, my hair was down to my backside. My checks were sunken in and I looked like a skeleton. They told me that if I wanted to stay clean I had to do the program. I was determined to do the program the way they told me to prove it did not work. Darn if it did though. It took 6 months of clean time to come out of denial. In that 6 months I went through that treatment center, 2 psych wards, a mental institution, 2 halfway houses, a suicide attempt.

At 6 months clean after attempting to work a program (mine) I was kicked out and living on the street again clean. I wanted to die but I was afraid to fail again by taking my own life and so I walked down the expressway hoping to get hit until I reached a bar where I promptly picked a fight with a bigger dude. I blacked out from rage and ended up in jail.

It was there that I realized I was done fighting and I dropped to my knees and surrendered. I have not used any mind altering substance since 9/10/1989. It is a one-day-a-time recovery process, but if I can do it so can you.

Today I am almost done with my Masters of substance abuse counseling degree. Our dreams can become a reality and the sky is the limit