Anxiety Archives - Helping Up Mission

Michael, age 69, was born and raised in
a small rural farming town of West Grove,
Pennsylvania. The youngest of five children,
Michael learned to be invisible. “My dad was
a heavy disciplinarian,” recalls Michael. “We
were very well behaved, scared actually. My
mother was emotionally distant. I spent all my
time alone in music, electronics, and books. In
second grade my teacher wrote my parents to
tell them that I just stare out of the window.
She thought that I was not paying attention,
when really, I was somewhere else.”
“I had my first drink at age 11. I would go
downstairs after one of my parent’s pinochle
games and drink any leftover beverages. I
never got a buzz. In high school, I started
smoking weed, taking speed, and dropping
acid. All my friends were into music, and we
would sit around, get high, and play. As soon
as I graduated from high school, I moved out.
At the time, I thought the trauma from my
parents was normal for everybody. I had no
idea that the abuse was not normal!”
“When I went to technical school for my
associates degree, I started working with bands
as a sound engineer. I was good at it. When
you are working with a rock and roll band, you
are at a club or bar every night. I drank, but
never to excess. I had a job to do.”
“My brother Joe did three tours of Vietnam.
He came back from the war a changed man,
but we became close again. 23 months later,
he committed suicide. My dad called me up
and told me to get my brother. I went into
the woods, found his body, and it destroyed
me. It took me 10 years in and out of mental
institutions to be able to function properly.
During one of my stays, a fellow patient was
given a lobotomy. They wheeled him into my
room with his eyes wide open and nothing
going on in his head. The orderly told me ‘if
you do not straighten up, this is how you are
going to end up.’ “
“My sister Jane had diabetes since she was eight,
and eventually would need a kidney transplant.
We made a pact, that when she was ready, I
would donate my kidney to her. One day
she called me and said, ‘Michael it is time to
come home.’ The first thing my mother said
to me was, ‘You can’t give her a kidney. You
do drugs!’ My sister was so mad at our parents
for trying to run her life, that she overdosed
on insulin the night before her transplant. 12
years after my brother Joe killed himself.”

“Eventually, I met a lady named Carol in
1983, and we were married for 22 years.
We started drinking excessively, but I
was a functional drunk. We began using
methamphetamines, which we would use
for the next 20 years. Eventually we got
busted. The cops came in, stuck seven
guns in my face, and off we went to jail.”
“By 2001, all that I wanted to do was lay
around and stay high. In 2005, Carol could
not take it anymore and told me that I
had to leave. I tried to commit suicide
two times. I do not know how I survived
even one of the attempts but ended
up at a hospital where they gave me a
dual diagnosis of drug abuse and bipolar
disorder. Shortly after my diagnosis, I
ended up at Water Street Rescue Mission
in Lancaster, Pa., where I began my
relationship with Jesus.”
“In 2017, I got pneumoococcal pneumonia.
It took a year for me to function again. I
could not work anymore and retired at age
65. To “change places,” I moved away and
abandoned my recovery network. I started
using meth and drinking again. And
then Covid happened. I started drinking
daily. I was not drinking to get high; I was
drinking for oblivion. After 3 years of this
lifestyle, and three black out trips to the
hospital in Elkton, Md, I finally heard about
Helping Up Mission (HUM). My nurse
gave me a number for Jason at Maryland
State Health. Jason told me about HUM,
picked me up, drove me to Baltimore, and
dropped me off.”
“At first, I was scared and not thinking
clearly but, everybody was so nice and
helpful. I was so angry and irritable that the
other clients called me ‘grumpy old man!’
By the third week, I knew HUM was where
I was supposed to be. There is a feeling
here that you know you are safe. I got out
of my comfort zone and joined the choir.
One day I was talking to the Treatment
Intern about the Bible, and he asked me
why I was here. I opened up about my
trauma from my dysfunctional family and
the deaths of my siblings. Soon, I was
talking to my Treatment Coordinator Todd
Starkey, and he helped me forgive them.“
“Really talking about my trauma made me
aware of other traumas in my life. HUM
offered a spiritual healing trauma class
which was helpful. I then read a manual
on trauma that was just neurological.
Soon, I was mentally able to absorb both
the therapist’s and survivor’s viewpoints. I
have been working on trauma a lot in the
past six months and just for myself, I took
HUM’s trauma class again.”
“I would like to thank the donors sincerely.
Without your support, this beautiful place
could not happen. You are changing
people’s lives.”
“To the guys like me who need help – If you
are not familiar with the Bible, and you
do not know much about Jesus, I would
look into it. The Bible has strengthened my
relationship with God.”

Because of your generous contributions, Brian (age 41) has focused on his recovery and learned to ask questions. Brian was raised in Pasadena, MD and had a good childhood. “I came from a middle-class family. I never wanted for anything. My parents divorced before I was two and my stepfather became my dad, while my father bounced in and out. He was a holiday father, only visiting on Christmases and birthdays. I knew that I wasn’t the reason for his actions, so I don’t let it affect me. I grew up in a very strict environment. I did what I was told, when I was told. It wasn’t an ask why kind of household,” recalls Brian.

Drugs and alcohol were introduced to Brian’s life at age 12. “I began using psychedelic drugs like ecstasy and acid at an early age. But I didn’t realize that I had a problem until my thirties. In my twenties, I was a Union sheet metal worker. I could party, go to work, and go to school while using drugs. I never ‘had a problem’ until I met opiates. Once I did everything spiraled downhill.”

“When I was in my 20’s and early 30’s I was shy to an extent. I would stay in the house and only come out when needed. When I met opiates that changed. I ventured out of the house. I wanted to talk. I started hanging out on the streets, and once I did that, I became a part of the street life.”

Eventually jobs became harder to hold on to. One day Brian got hurt on a job and ended up going to pain management. “I figured out how easy it was to obtain large amounts of opiates. I went from two cars, a house and motorcycles to losing everything. Soon I was living in tents and abandoned homes. And by the grace of something I’m still here.”

Brian attended and completed a six-month program on his own free will. “After months of sobriety, I was walking down 25th and Maryland Avenue and the crack dealer said ‘testers’. At first, I kept walking. But then I thought ok. I could do this.” Shortly thereafter Brian was once again, living on the streets panhandling in West Baltimore.

Eventually an ‘Old Friend’ found Brian and told him that he was going to Helping Up Mission (HUM). Brian responded, “Really? You’re going to that place on Baltimore Street? He said, “just come with me man”, at first, I said, “no”. Yet, when I pulled up out front of HUM, it wasn’t anything like what I had in mind. And it was January and it was cold.”

“At HUM I had a question for everything. When I was a child we only went to church on Christmas and Easter. I never was religious. But the Spiritual Life staff has been open to my goofy questions. My beliefs have been opened. I want to learn more about religion, but I want to learn about all aspects of it – the good and the bad.

For the most part, Brian acknowledges that his work therapy assignments have had right timing. “I chose to come here, to fully work and focus on myself. I didn’t come here to get my kids back, for a good girlfriend, or a good job. At first, I cleaned toilets, and then I was a peacekeeper at the 23 desk. The 23 desk is a focal point of the building dealing with 400 different personalities (as they check in and out). It taught me patience. Finally, I started working in the Treatment office, where I ask a lot of questions and talk a lot with the men. I get to help people daily.”

On relationships, Brian has reached out to his father. He is also rebuilding the relationship with his mother. “Recently, I got a phone call from her, stopped by the house and when I was getting ready to leave, she asked if I would come by the next day. But family doesn’t have to be blood. My daughter’s mother has been there for me this whole year. We can relate. The other day I texted my daughter that I only had two weeks until graduation and she said, “I know. I am proud of you.” And that brought me to tears. So, through me being selfish in my recovery, I have earned back respect and relationships. I’m not perfect, but I am living reasonably happy. Now, I plan on doing the next right thing.”

“After graduation I’m going back to work and possibly taking the steps to become a part time Peer Recovery Specialist. I plan on getting my alumni badge and coming back here, to keep asking questions. I have a newly discovered passion for helping people. Now, I love talking to people.”

“To the donors, you ladies and gentlemen are truly a blessing, because of your blessings HUM gives so much opportunity and Hope.”

Manny S

Family values were extremely important in Manny’s upbringing. His mother is from Manning, South Carolina, and she made sure that he and his five siblings maintained “old country” values. Manny’s mother was a hard worker and expected nothing less from her children. The second child in the family, , Manny and his older sibling had a close look at their mother’s work ethic.

Even when his mother would do housework, “She would always give us something to do, like clothes of our own to wash,” Manny says. “Once we were sitting on the front porch, my siblings and I, and we had buckets scrubbing our own clothes.” Manny remembers that each of his siblings were given a white shirt, a pair of socks, and underwear. “As I got older, I realized that my mother was inside doing loads of laundry, cleaning up, and cooking dinner all at the same time.”

Manny grew up in the Fairfield area of Baltimore, near Brooklyn. Family outings and gatherings were a weekly event, especially on Sundays at Southern Baptist Church.

Manny’s mother became a reverend three years ago, but has been an ordained minister for 17 years. “Church was the key to our family, and sticking together instilled a strong sense of responsibility in us all,” says Manny, “looking out for each other and preserving the family institution was important.”

Addiction has no respect for family values. It does not discriminate no matter your race, age, sex, or socioeconomic status. “I went straight from being a teenager to using drugs, “ Manny says. Manny’s mother was cleaning his room one day, with an ulterior inspection motive, and she hit the jackpot. Her suspicions were confirmed when she found drugs. “She asked me when I came home: What is this?”, as she stretched her hand out toward him holding the small clear bag. She had found powder cocaine. “Well, what is this?” she exclaimed. Manny’s only response was, “Why were you in my room?” Manny’s mother explained that she couldn’t have drugs in her home, and especially not around her younger children. Manny had to make a choice.

Manny remembers, “She was like, well, you’ve got to choose the drugs or your family.” Manny chose drugs, which would see him abandon his family, lose his job, and become homeless. Manny’s homelessness lasted for seven years. At first, he stayed with friends, but “couchsurfing” was his least favorite. “I don’t like to feel as though I’m asking anyone for anything and I wanted to maintain this image of a self sufficient man,” Manny says. He preferred to stay in an abandoned Baltimore City school, or in abandoned houses.

”I even stayed under the Charles Street bridge, because it was right near Penn Station. I found a way that I could get around the fence when no one was looking. I would get down there and daydream while looking at the cars pass on 83,” Manny states. Those seven years were the longest seven years in his life, but at age 25 Manny returned home and began his road to recovery.

A month into his sobriety Manny returned to church. With his mother and God at his side, Manny’s faith grew and he prospered spiritually, personally, and professionally. But addiction is a cunning, baffling, and powerful disease. Manny’s 17 years in recovery culminated with a relapse. Manny disappeared again. This time, thanks to the Grace of God, for only three days. He stopped contacting his family, and began demolishing his rebuilt relationships. “My phone kept ringing and receiving text messages, but I never responded,” Manny remembers.

Getting to the Helping Up Mission (HUM) was a relatively easy process. Manny finally mustered up enough nerve to return home after family, friends, and church family put enough pressure on him. He spent a week in solitude with his family members, getting honest with himself and his family. After that week of soul searching, Manny put on his best suit and walked through the doors of HUM. His pastor at the time had made donations here and suggested it to Manny as a place for him. It worked. Manny graduated from the one year Spiritual Recovery Program on February 15, 2019. He is also the Spiritual Life Intern at HUM.

The HUM has helped Manny combat his shyness and people pleasing tendencies. The “inside work” as he likes to refer to it. “That part of me that connected to God was missing, because even though I was in church, you know, the church wasn’t in me,” Manny expressed, “My spiritual life is now back on track and I’m actually looking into Human Services. HUM has given me so many opportunities. The sky is the limit, I would tell to any man that walks through these doors.”

Because of you Manny has been given a second chance to get it right.

Your generous contributions have enabled him to pursue schooling and professional training opportunities and he gets to live amongst men flourishing in their new-found spirituality.

“That part of me that connected to God was missing.”

Eric is 40 years old and from West Baltimore, but moved to Carol County as a child. He explains that his parents were good people and he wanted to be like them. Eric was a good student, and his goal was to become a police officer after college. He recalls, “I wanted to be a detective. I always wanted to protect everything around me and police did that.”

Eric started using at the age of 14 when he saw the cool kids using, and he wanted to be like them. Not long after, he began getting drugs from the city for his friends in the county. Despite his drug use, he managed to continue through school with good grades. He had a teacher who noticed something was going on and confronted him. Eric remembers, “She told me she would help me in any way.”

Shortly after graduation, he was charged with robbery and assault. Although the charges were eventually dropped, Eric was no longer able to attend college to become a police officer. Before he could start college again, Eric got into a street fight and ended up in jail for robbery.

Eric moved to New York to be with the mother of his child and began a pattern of drinking and bad decision making. When he returned to Baltimore, his mother died, and Eric went on a six-month drug run. He explains, “Literally, I was trying to die.” He tried to get clean but instead became addicted to heroin. He and his girlfriend had their children taken from them because of the drugs.

He went through several cycles of getting clean and then messing up. In 2015, he got clean again and was clean until he was in an accident. The doctor prescribed pain medicine and Eric refused to take it at first. Eventually, he was in so much pain that he started taking the pills. After about a week of taking the pills, he decided to come to HUM. Eric said, “I knew I was getting ready to go on a run.” He could tell he was losing control and knew he needed help.

When he came to HUM, Eric “saw people making it. I saw people making themselves make it. I saw there was a whole lot going on in one building.” Even though he didn’t need the majority of what was offered at HUM, he was impressed. He had a place to live and the ability to leave, but Eric decided to stick it out to see what would happen and recently graduated.

Eric shares that he is sure that, “you cannot skip the struggle. That is where the personality is built. That is where the character is built. Anybody, anywhere that skips any struggle when they fall on their face, they are lucky if they get up again. People are dying from that.”

Eric is now the overdose outreach advocate at a nationally known hospital. He goes out into the places of need to help those struggling with addiction and tries to share hope with them. “I care about people seeing who they can be,” Eric explains. He likes providing options. “When I was in the midst of everything, there were no options. You wake up every day, and your intent has to be get money or be prepared to die. I have choices nowadays.”

He believes there is something at HUM that is special. There is no reason this many men who would never even speak to each other in the street can get along at the mission.

Eric feels like he is living right now to help others out. “I feel like my existence right now on this earth is if I am not making it better, don’t touch it.” He is thankful that he got to meet every single person that he met at HUM. When asked about his plans, Eric explains, “I want to try to share the hope that I learned. To me it is real.”

Listen to Eric tell his story on our podcast.

“I was using drugs for so long that I didn’t know how to live without them.”

Dustin was a Baltimore City firefighter when he fell through a flight of stairs and was injured. He was prescribed pain pills to help him recover, and “started needing more and more.”

“When I couldn’t pass the physical to go back to the department, the insurance got cut off, which means the doctor got cut off. I realized I was addicted and started feeling the withdrawal.” So, Dustin started buying pain pills on the street. When he couldn’t get them anymore, a buddy suggested trying heroin as a stronger and cheaper alternative.

He woke up one morning and couldn’t find any drugs. He remembers, “I was sitting around, hating myself, and hating life. I cursed God a lot and was wondering what went wrong.” A week earlier his sister and mom had tried an intervention. Dustin decided to try to detox and went to Bayview Hospital. He was in there for seven days when a social worker, “an angel on my shoulder” as Dustin puts it, came to him and explained that he needed to do something or he would die. She told him about Helping Up Mission and showed him videos of the Mission on YouTube, but he still wasn’t sure.

Eventually, Dustin decided to come to HUM. He remembers, “When the cab pulled up out front, I was scared and nervous. I was still sore and feeling [the effects of withdrawal]. I was using drugs for so long that I didn’t know how to live without them.”

At first, a year seemed daunting, but after three months of going to classes and chapel, he decided he wanted to stay. “I liked the way I was feeling. Every time I would see [my mom]; she would say ‘You’re looking good. You’re walking tall now. Keep it up.’”

“I started building a strong support network. I was making good friends. We started playing softball together. We were all learning to live again, learning to play again, learning to have fun again. Besides my family, the friends that I made here that are still my friends today; I consider them family now. There is no way we would be where we are now without each other’s support. We still hold each other accountable every day.”

When he came to HUM, Dustin knew his mother had terminal cancer. The time they had together while he was going through recovery allowed them to get to know each other better than ever before. Dustin remembers, “It was kind of a blessing that we knew she was terminal and we got to know each other [again]…it was liberating. One Sunday I visited her, and they did a church service in the cafeteria at the nursing home. We prayed together there for the first time probably since I was a little boy. I still remember that.”

After about six months, as Dustin was beginning to get his life together, he got a phone call that his four-year-old son had pneumonia and was in the hospital. Although they thought he was getting better, he did not begin to breathe on his own when the hospital removed the ventilator. Dustin was on his way to say his goodbyes to his son when his friends rallied around him. They wouldn’t let him go the hospital on his own. They were with him and went through the painful time with Dustin. While he was numb and thought about using again, he didn’t want to lose all of his progress and all the trust he had built back up. He didn’t want to disappoint those who believed in him. “I loved to see the look on my mom’s face. I loved that my daughter smiles back at me now.”

His mom’s health was deteriorating, and she could not make it to his son’s funeral. Three weeks later, Dustin’s sister called to say that his mother only had a day or two left. He and his sister spent the night with his mom as she passed away. “I just felt gratitude. If I would have picked up [and started using] after my son passed away, then I wouldn’t have been able to be there with my mom. It just kind of put everything in perspective for me. As hard as it was, it was peaceful. We were able to be there with her. I was clean and clear-minded. I was at peace, and she was at peace.”

Dustin explained how he continued his recovery during this difficult time. “I leaned on my network. That is a big part of my story; I had that positive network.” He remembers, “It was hard at first. All I knew is that I had to keep moving forward.” A few days after his mom had passed away, Mike Rallo encouraged Dustin to share his story with the new guys at HUM. “It was an emotional day. When I walked out of there, I just felt a huge weight lifted off of my shoulders.” It was also an opportunity for him to help others at HUM. “Before, I thought nobody’s going to learn from me.” Now he can see that others learn from his struggles and how he got through it.

Dustin graduated in November of 2015. Shortly after graduation, Dustin and his close friends were all offered staff positions at HUM. He recalls, “To be able to give back to a place that saved all of our lives, it was awesome.” He continues, “It’s about the guys that are here in the program. Just to be able to give back to them, it’s a special place, and I feel it when I walk in here.”

Dustin has a new life after coming to HUM. In August, he had a new a life come into the world when he and his wife had a baby boy. “Hopefully I went through the struggles so he won’t have to.” Dustin’s daughter is eleven now, and he gets to be there for her, too. “I love being a dad.”

Dustin says that those who support HUM matter. “You save lives every day. I’m not just thankful, but I’m sure my family is. I’m sure my kids are. I’m sure my mom was thankful to have her son for her last six months – her real son, not her son who was showing up high.”

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Thanks to you…Greg has learned his purpose in life is to help others.

Greg is 25 years old, and like many of the young men here at HUM, he grew up in a family that provided every opportunity for him. His family regularly attended church and Greg, like his two older brothers, attended a private school.

Greg admits that he has always been a bit a rebellious. A fireworks incident got him suspended in seventh grade, and by eighth grade, he was drinking with his peers.

At the beginning of his freshman year, Greg moved from alcohol to marijuana. By his junior year, Greg was using OxyContin and cocaine. His family tried to help with rehab programs, but Greg began a long spiral of accidents, incidents, rehab, short periods of sobriety, and eventually, relapsing.

In 2015, at the age of 24, Greg’s parents kicked him out after he robbed them. “I was homeless, but I couldn’t do it. I slept on a bench near HUM, but didn’t know this was the Mission.” After two nights, he called his dad who told him about Helping Up Mission and Greg agreed to give it a try.

He arrived, still dirty and high. When he came into the building, it wasn’t what he was expecting. It was comforting to see someone from his church working at HUM, and that helped, but he still struggled. He called home hoping to leave, but his dad told him, “Greg, this is that moment where you make the decision if you want this.” For Greg, this was the time to surrender.

Greg spent ten months at HUM, went back to college, and was doing well. But, he stopped going to recovery meetings, was not working the 12 steps and decided that he should celebrate his birthday by using. After all, he was doing so well; perhaps he could get away with it just one more time. Looking back, he says, “Part of me thinks that it was because I was doing so well – maybe I could get away with one.”

He borrowed his parent’s car, telling them he was going to a meeting. Instead, he went to his usual place to get drugs. “I shot up while driving and I just had an immediate overdose…the last thing I remember was a loud crash.” Greg crashed into a bus on Maryland Avenue. He remembers, “My next conscious memory is three weeks later in Johns Hopkins ICU surrounded by doctors with machines and tubes everywhere. My parents are there and crying, so I started crying.” He had been in a coma for three weeks, having nearly died several times.

Greg recalls his mother was “just praying that she didn’t have to bury her youngest kid.” She wasn’t the only one praying: the HUM staff, his friends, and his church family were all praying for Greg. After a month in the hospital, he went home and took another month to recuperate.

In May, Greg returned to HUM. “Ever since I got out of the hospital, all I wanted to do was come back to the Mission. I have never been clean for ten months since I started doing drugs. I’ve been to many treatment centers…but God is doing something good here.”

Greg returned and started the year-long Spiritual Recovery Program all over again. He remembers, “Three weeks after I came back, I watched the seed class I came in with graduate. My mom came and watched with me. I was happy to be alive.”

“I try to do two things each day for my recovery: trust God and help others.”

The staff at HUM saw a difference in Greg this time around. Greg explains, “When I got out of the coma, I had learned that two of my friends did the same thing (overdosed) and didn’t wake up the next morning. I did, so I knew that I had a purpose. There is no reason why I should be alive. I saw a purpose in my life.”

He is actively working the 12 step program now and encourages those struggling with the steps, “don’t look at them like they are hurdles you have to get through. Look at them like guard rails that you have to stay in between. You do them on a daily basis.”

Each day is new, and Greg has a plan for today. He offers this explanation: “I try to do two things each day for my recovery. That is to trust God and to help others. You don’t have to be an addict to relate to my story. You just have to be a human being and realize that you guys are alive for a purpose. If you trust [in God], then you start to live life with a purpose. You start to see value in things.”

“The second part is helping others. That is the key. When I am helping another, I am focused on them entirely. That is what works for me today.”

Greg is now in college, studying human services administration. He would like to go into the substance abuse field to share his story and help someone else not make the same mistakes he made. He wants to help others to see that they have a purpose.

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Wes, 33 years old, was born and raised in Baltimore. His family sent him to an all male private high school to allow him to get a good education. “While I was there,” he explains, “I probably didn’t enjoy everything about it. But after graduating, I really appreciate having the opportunity to go somewhere like that.” However, while in high school, Wes started gained access and started using substances, like Ritalin and Aderall – taking prescription medication for Attention Deficit Disorder, even though he was not diagnosed with ADD. From there, he moved onto other drugs, including marijuana, hallucinogens, and OxyContin.

Wes graduated high school and moved on to Towson University, where his addiction intensified. He was eventually expelled for selling marijuana from his dorm room. For several years Wes worked dead-end jobs in order to support his habit. Then he started selling again. “I kind of felt like it made people need me in their lives,” he explains. “I always had trouble making friends on my own, so I figured…if I sell addictive substances, they’ve gotta be my friend.”

Eventually his house was raided, he was arrested, and he moved back in with mom. At that point, Wes knew he was on a downward spiral. He was only twenty-eight years old. Wes was going through what he called “spiritual decay and just feeling tired with life.” At this point he knew, “I had nothing to sell; I had nothing to give; I was just really taking everything… trying to fill the void inside with drugs.”

Wes went back to Towson University, managing to get good grades despite continued drug use, and earned his degree in Environmental Science. But even after earning his degree, he getting dead-end jobs, staying up all night using and sleeping all day. He thought it was the chemicals that caused the schedule, but since he has been at HUM he has realized: “It was really a lot of self-image and self-esteem issues, being ashamed of showing my face outside in public. I didn’t want to see the light of day, or the ‘normal’ people going about their business.”

Thanks to you… Wes is gaining confidence to live as the man he was created to be!

At one point, Wes went to ask his mother for money. She suggested he get some help, but Wes protested that he didn’t have insurance or any way to pay for a treatment program. But, his sister’s boyfriend had been to HUM and told him about it. Wes spent that night in his mother’s basement, thinking, and finally decided he was ready for something else. So at the age of thirty-two, he started his recovery journey at HUM.

When he first arrived, Wes was in a fog, but was ready to surrender. He was surprised that everyone seemed friendly and willing to help him. It took a while to settle in, though, because he was used to the schedule of sleeping during the day and staying up at night.

At about four months, Wes started to acclimate to recovery. “Making regular class attendance, grudgingly waking up for work therapy, and at least trying to do the best I could do” are all things he says have helped. “It really has gotten easier. As somebody who would go to sleep before the birds wake up, my work therapy [has me] wake up with the birds and go clean up cigarette butts on East Baltimore Street. I am out there dancing around with my music on, and I am having a blast.”

Besides his work therapy, Wes suggests that other aspects of life at HUM have really helped, especially the sense of community. “I’ve never experienced anything like it,” he says. During his time here, Wes has also taken the opportunity to meet regularly with his mental health counselor. “The mental health coordination is great. I can be honest with my counselor, tell them whatever is going on with me inside.”

For Wes, one of the most meaningful parts of the HUM community has been the choir. It took him some time to gain the confidence to join, but once he did, Wes found he was in his element. “The people who sing in the choir get a lot out of it – finding some purpose – helping us to realize that we need to trust God and just do the best we can. I love getting up there. I have always been an introvert, and never thought my skills would be enough to be on a showcase. But, I love getting up there and showing off my moves.” Through the choir, Wes has had some additional leadership opportunities which have been personally affirming. It has been an encouragement to Wes to realize that “people see more in me than I can see in myself sometimes.”

Wes graduates in a few months, and he is waiting on God as he discerns the best way to move forward. Wes is thrilled to have a better relationship with his family. Where he used to be a hindrance, he is now a help. His self-image issues have come a long way, and he is learning new ways to live in confidence and freedom. While he would eventually like to work in his field of study – Environmental Science – Wes is not anxious. “I can take this time, figure out what is best for me, and set things in motion.” He knows that God will make a way for him.

What does Wes think of HUM? “It saved my life, and I think it can work wonders in anyone’s life, even if they don’t think it can.” To all friends and supporters of Helping Up Mission, he has this to say: “Thanks for showing me that God loves me!”

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Julio knows how it feels to be successful in the world’s eyes, but had to learn to be still and serve in order to succeed in his recovery.

Julio Santana grew up in an upper middle class family in Baltimore. His father was an electrical engineer and his mother was a dermatologist, both at Johns Hopkins Hospital. He attended private school where he played football and baseball, and sang in the choir. His success in high school led him to Tuskegee University. He graduated from Tuskegee with a degree in finance.

Julio started using alcohol as a teenager. His cousin gave him his first 40-ounce bottle while he was in tenth grade and he realized that it helped him relax. Drinking became a social part of Julio’s life and he continued drinking throughout college.

After graduation from Tuskegee, Julio started working in Virginia at a job that required him to “wine and dine” clients with an unlimited expense account. He was living the dream with five cars and an amazing apartment. After three years, he left this job because the multiple promotions and great material goods were not enough. He wanted more. Julio admits that his drinking increased during this time, but he was still functioning.

On September 11, 2001, Julio returned to the Baltimore area to start a new job in mortgage banking. He had incredible financial success and worked for three years in the industry. But that still wasn’t enough.

He eventually left the mortgage banking firm in order to partner with his best friend in a fast food franchise. They built up their new store and again found success. The shop was ranked fifth in the region for the first three years that Julio and his partner owned the store. That led to the decision to open a second store, all before he had turned thirty years old!

Looking back, Julio can see that the second shop was a mistake. It cost more money to start and was a “problem store” from the start. Also, next door to the store was a bar. Julio became an absentee owner and let the teenagers working behind the counter more or less run the shop. He had always been the responsible one, the one to fix problems, but he wasn’t that guy this time around. He ended up having to sell the store and had to start all over again.

This time Julio worked in the home repair business and did much of the actual labor himself. He felt his life spinning out of control at this point, but still didn’t realize he was an alcoholic.

It took the death of his parents to open his eyes. Julio’s mother had been ill and he felt bad that his father had been the one taking care of his mom, when Julio felt he should have been the one helping out. After his mother passed away, Julio’s father told Julio that he was wasting his gifts because of alcohol. But Julio still didn’t think he had an addiction; he thought addictions could only happen if he used hard drugs. One of the last things Julio’s father said to Julio was, “Son, please stop drinking”.

After the death of both parents, Julio tried to clean up and was sober for several months. But one day the pressures of life, the guilt and the shame all just caused him to give up. He ended up sabotaging a job he was on and left to get drunk.

It took Julio three tries to get into Helping Up Mission. On his first attempt, he arrived and had to wait to get in the door, but he wasn’t ready so he gave up and left. On his second attempt, he came with too much luggage. He wasn’t ready to let go of his material things and so he returned to a friend’s house (he had no other place to go) thinking he would never come back. But, God had different plans for Julio. On Veteran’s Day of 2015, Julio only had $5 on him and was so depressed that he knew he had to do something. He walked for two and a half hours, stopped for one last beer, and then caught a ride to the train station to get to HUM.

Although he had still packed several bags to bring with him, at some point he had to surrender it all and start fresh.

At first, he was afraid and he had a rough start. It took him until around the sixty-day point to get comfortable with the idea that he was exactly where he needed to be. Julio had borrowed a truck from a friend, but it broke down and he saw that as “a sign” to sit still and focus on his one-year in the Spiritual Recovery Program.

Julio graduated in November and is currently a graduate intern in the IT department at HUM. During his time here, Julio learned to sit still and to take responsibility for things again. He also learned that helping doesn’t mean that you will fix a problem for another person; it means guiding people to a better way and then allowing them to go make it happen.

Shortly before graduation, Julio took a Peer Advocate Training course. This training will allow Julio to work in emergency rooms and counsel (as a peer) to those in need. He can help in a specialized way that doctors and nurses aren’t always able to because they do not have first-hand experience of recovery. He can advocate for and educate those in need and then help them so that they won’t necessarily need to return to the ER.

Whether Julio will choose to work in the IT field or as a Peer Advocate is not quite clear to him. It is clear that helping people is a passion that burns deep within! But right now, he needs to sit still and let God call the shots for his future. With that as his plan, he can’t go wrong.

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Drew Dedrick, age 43, was raised in Columbia, MD. “I grew up in a good Catholic family,” says Drew. “I did well in school. I played football, baseball and painted scenery for the drama club and was an artist for the newspaper.”

“I had always been a normal guy. As I entered middle school I got glasses, braces and crazy hair due to my many cowlicks. I wasn’t cool anymore. I desperately wanted to fit in. I felt like good students were nerds so I started making an effort not to get straight A’s.

“After high school, I enrolled in UMBC and joined a fraternity. I did nothing but drink my entire freshman year. I felt like it was required to be part of the crowd and it helped me to feel accepted. By the end of my freshman year, I had failed out of college.

“I started working at Toby’s Dinner Theatre as a morning dishwasher. Within weeks I was promoted to working with props and stage managing. From there I became the technical director and finally a sound designer.

“In 1999, I married my girlfriend — an actress I had met at the theatre. We had a good life together. She eventually left the theatre and got a job as a teacher.

“Our first son, Martin, was born in 2004 and our second, August, arrived in 2007. After August was born, she wanted me to get a “real job.” She didn’t think that my job at the theatre had the long-term security that a day job could provide. But, I was comfortable at the theatre and knew that I was very good at what I did.

“After August was born, the disconnect between us grew. She had matured and become a proper mother but I hadn’t made that adjustment with her. She kept asking me to drink less. I hesitantly agreed but never made any real changes.

“We reached a point of crisis in our marriage. She gave me an ultimatum that I needed to quit drinking, quit smoking and get my health checked out. I told her that was a lot to ask for and I didn’t know if I could do all of it. I went to the doctor the very next week. I tried to quit smoking without realizing how hard it would be. I never was able to stop drinking. After six months, right after Thanksgiving 2013, she kicked me out. At first I fought for her and our relationship but eventually realized that it was futile — she was not going to take me back. Not being able to be with my boys was devastating.

“I still had my job at Toby’s and I would sleep in my car and at friends’ houses. It was freezing cold and so I drank to keep warm. My wife told me I couldn’t drive the boys anymore. Once that responsibility was gone, I drank whenever I wasn’t at work. I drank all day long. I got to the point where I would shake if I wasn’t drinking. My doctor prescribed me anxiety medication. Because I was taking it along with drinking, I started blacking out. I started getting progressive warnings from my boss about showing up drunk to work.

“From May to October my life was just shame upon shame. I was hallucinating. I was very paranoid and stopped talking to people. I thought I was going to die – I didn’t believe I had any chance to control my alcoholism. I was only getting ½ hour of sleep every night and drinking didn’t even get me drunk anymore.

“I finally realized that I needed help. My step-mother helped me look for programs and found Helping Up Mission. She brought me to HUM and I was an emotional mess. I had been isolated for so long. Suddenly, I was in a community of guys all working on the same thing and it was like an enormous weight had been lifted.

“I surrounded myself with good people. For the first time in my life, I started following the rules. Anything the staff asked me to do, I did. I got a sponsor, a home group, developed a great relationship with my treatment coordinator, fully used my therapist and started attending church.

“As I progressed in the program, I had to decide about going back to work right away or waiting. I prayed on it and decided to accept a work therapy assignment in HUM’s treatment office. I wanted to give back to the place that had saved my life! I eventually accepted an internship in the Philanthropy Department. My family wrote a letter lashing out at me for taking an internship instead of a full-time job. They wanted me to re-enter the workforce and provide for my boys.

“I recently was offered the opportunity to interview for a position in HUM’s Philanthropy Department as the Marketing and Communications Coordinator. As I read the job description, I was amazed – if I could have written it myself, this is the ideal job description I would have written. A couple of weeks later, I was offered and accepted the position. Working at Helping Up Mission is a calling. It’s a place where I can help save lives.

“Because I am able to live at the Mission as a residential staff member, I am saving money and able to make financial amends to my ex-wife. My family apologized to me for writing that letter and doubting me. They now realize that I was doing the right thing all along, by surrendering to God’s will and am now in a position to give back to my boys immediately.”

Watch Drew’s interview at our 2016 Graduation Banquet:

https://youtu.be/Z7XY9OguvbA?t=2m21s