Death Archives - Page 2 of 2 - Helping Up Mission

Jake is 32 years old and working on his bachelor’s degree from the University of Baltimore; he has plans to earn his Masters in Public Health to work on water security or to develop vaccines. Looking back at everything that brought him to this point in his life, Jake says that he is, “grateful for the Helping Up Mission and for everything I’ve been through.” He believes that “not everyone’s life has to be reduced to shambles, but I’m grateful because maybe if mine didn’t, I might be living a mediocre life.”

Jake grew up in Severn where he went to several small, religious schools. His parents divorced when he was eight years old, but he continued to have relationships with both his mother and father and knew that they both loved him. Jake’s father was more like a best friend growing up – he was always encouraging, but rarely disciplined Jake.

He remembers, “I figured out pretty early that, if I can project the appropriate image, then I can get away with anything.” Jake had always been a good child and had earned his parent’s trust, so he barely had any oversight at that point in his life. He explains that he liked the “thrill of living a double life.” In high school, Jake started using a variety of different recreational substances off and on. After he graduated high school, he says, “I just wasn’t expecting the lack of direction that I had in life. ” That hit me really hard because I had all the confidence in the world throughout high school that, in spite of my behavior, I thought I could have anything in the world that I wanted.” Eventually, Jake started “relying on drugs to get any enjoyment out of life.”

He remembers that “I didn’t want to do school anymore. I didn’t really want to do anything anymore.” After he had wrecked a car, he was sent to a strict rehab facility and then tried other rehab programs. Jake recalls, “I hated the life I had and didn’t know how to stop or make it change.” So, he believes that he made one of his best decisions and joined the military. He has always had an interest in the medical field, so he joined the Navy to serve in the medical corps.

During the five years in the Navy, Jake trained in Illinois and served in Italy and Pearl Harbor. He was also able to serve on a six-month humanitarian mission to Central and South America. Jake says the military “let me travel, let me know that I could do anything that I put my mind to, gave me friends around the globe, and gave me ideas for my future.” While he may have had the opportunity to drink with his peers, Jake recalls that substance abuse was not an option for him while in the Navy.

When he got out of the Navy, Jake had the best of intentions. “I got out thinking that I was different enough that coming back here everything would be different. It wasn’t really true. I came back to the same old frustrations, the same old obstacles.” “I can’t remember what the first reason I went back to using drugs was, except maybe boredom.” Although he had a job he loved, Jake went back to his old ways and struggled for two years with his addiction.

His older brother told him about Helping Up Mission, so he came to HUM for the first time in 2015. “All II wanted was to salvage what was left of my life. I didn’t know anything about really addressing me at the core and what is wrong. And I didn’t even really care to do that. I was too scared to do that. I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t think it was necessary. I just wanted to protect the few things I had in this world – a car, apartment, and a few decent relationships. I just wanted to stop digging the hole deeper.” Jake stayed for about three months but wanted to get back to his life as quickly as possible.

Two months after he left HUM, Jake was “way out of control. It was my worst ever. There was daily use of heroin and cocaine.” His family was worried, and his sister staged an intervention, but he didn’t get the help he needed. He just kept using. It wasn’t until he overdosed and got in another car accident before Jake felt broken enough to see that he needed help. Two days later, Jake came “crawling back in the doors of HUM.”

This time around, Jake entered HUM with a quiet new focus. He found a couple of guys that he could relate to, stuck with them, and then really did some introspection. He has taken advantage of the mental health counselors during this time at HUM. “Before, I had no desire to really dig. I was too afraid of what I would find. Now I know that there is no hope of hope if I don’t do what is uncomfortable.”

Jake has learned to cut himself a break and to stop clinging to his past. He now knows to take responsibility for the things he needs to, but that he isn’t responsible for the things he can’t control. “I walked into the doors this time and just let go of the entire outside world. I was no longer trying to save anything from the past. I just knew that I needed to get myself straight.”

Jake says just hearing that “I am a wicked sinner and it’s okay” really helped him. Now he knows that he “doesn’t need to be righteous for God to love me, or for me to love myself.”

Since coming to HUM, Jake has realized that he can combine the strengths of the 12 step program with his faith to make recovery work for him. In fact, Jake is the Secretary of his AA home group and enjoys serving in this way. “I have been fortunate to find a meeting where I connect with the guys there.”

Jake will stay at HUM through graduation this time but then plans to move on and finish up his schooling. Because he has allowed himself to focus on his recovery during his stay at the Mission, Jake is celebrating his independence and believes God knows how his future will all work out.

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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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Richard is no longer wandering the streets. Instead, he is spending this Christmas with family!

Richard, 58, has lived his whole life in Baltimore. Dad was a steelworker and mom stayed home, taking care of the four children.

Richard remembers his grandmother struggled with alcoholism and was reclusive. While he didn’t like that about her, he started to drink, himself, by age 13. “I was small in stature and shy,” he says, “and it helped me fit in better. It gave me ‘beer muscles’.”

Looking back, Richard says he was an alcoholic by 16. Still, although drinking regularly and working a side job, he did earn his high school diploma.

But, at 19, his parents couldn’t tolerate his drinking and “invited” him to leave the family home. On his own, and continuing to drink, Richard kept steady employment in local restaurants. A hard worker, he often received raises and promotions. Then, at age 28, his boss invited him to his first Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) meeting.

It was a moment of clarity! Richard bought into the 12 Steps of AA and began faithfully working the program. A couple of years later, his girlfriend, the mother of his son, agreed to marry him. Richard remembers this as a good time in his life and he stayed sober for eight years.

But, he started getting bored with his daily routine. “Life got kind of stale,” he says. One day, Richard decided to take a drink – even though he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop. Within a year, he was divorced. While he cared about his son and saw him almost daily, Richard admits it wasn’t quality time.

The two of them became estranged when Richard was sent to jail for a year. In fact, they only saw each other once during the following decade – at the viewing for Richard’s mother after her death. By that time, his son was on his own journey of alcoholism… and recovery, with two years clean.

In her later years, Richard’s mother needed 24-hour supervision because she was now blind and diabetic. Still bored with his life, Richard moved into her house and cared for her – all-day, everyday for seven years until her death. But that was okay with him because he could also isolate from the world and keep drinking.

After his mom died, Richard remained isolated and drinking in her house. But after two years and numerous unpaid bills, his sister evicted him. Richard says, “While I wasn’t shocked, I still had no plan. I was penniless and had this feeling of impending doom. I cared, but knew I was powerless – and that it was my own fault.”

Then something happened. A friend tricked Richard into attending an AA meeting because she knew his son would be there. The two exchanged pleasantries and his son introduced Richard to two ladies at the meeting.

The next week, now homeless and penniless, Richard was standing on a Baltimore street looking at a store window display. Inside, one of the women from the AA meeting recognized him and came out. They talked and she promised to take him to an AA meeting where he could learn about a program that might really help him.

As a recluse, Richard was afraid of programs, but agreed to go to the meeting. There he met three guys from Helping Up Mission who shared about HUM’s 12-month residential Spiritual Recovery Program. After hearing their stories and seeing how they were doing now, Richard felt a spark of hope.

But, it was the Labor Day weekend and there were no intakes until Tuesday. Richard prayed, asking God to keep him alive until he could get to HUM.

Then, an AA friend from years ago recognized Richard and offered to take him to his home for those three days. Richard slept on his couch, got cleaned up, ate good food and went to more meetings with his friend.

Upon arrival at HUM, Richard said, “I was looking for all of the homeless people, but I couldn’t see anyone who looked like me. The moment I walked in I felt hope!”

But Richard was in terrible shape – 115 pounds and couldn’t get up out of a chair on his own. And, after nearly a decade of isolation, being in the midst of 500 men on the HUM campus wasn’t easy. “But I noticed I was getting better,” he says. “My life was changing and I could see it. I could even look people in the eyes again.”

Richard’s daily work responsibilities on campus also required him to interact with many new people. He met guys serious about their recovery and they became friends, even helping him reconnect with his son.

Today they’re doing much better. “It’s amicable,” he says, “no longer about the past. He believes I am sorry. We love each other.”

Richard also reached out to his ex-wife and thanked her for raising their son. He even reconnected with the sister that evicted him.

This fall Richard celebrated one-year of sobriety and graduated from our one-year Spiritual Recovery Program. “I am truly learning what it means to live one day at a time,” he says.

Thanks to you…Richard no longer wonders the streets, isolated and homeless. As a HUM graduate he continues to live and work on our campus – and this year Richard will be spending Christmas with his family – at his sister’s house!

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I grew up in West Baltimore – in Sandtown. There was my mom, my younger brother and his dad in the house. But, I didn’t know he was my step-father; I thought he was my dad until I was 12 when we moved out to Park Heights. It was hard when I found out he wasn’t my biological father, but I realized eventually that he was my “dad”.

My relationship with my mom, even in the middle of my mess, was good. She would always try to find a way to help me get better.

I started trying drugs when I was 8 or 9 – marijuana. But, it wasn’t an every-day thing until I was 15 or 16 because of limited access – by then I had a job and associates to get it from. I started using cocaine at 17.

I put myself out of school when I was in 8^th grade [by acting out]. My mom wouldn’t let me be in the house unless I was learning, so the principal that expelled me from Greenspring Middle helped me get into an alternative school. Just two weeks from completing my GED, I got in an altercation and got myself put out again.

I left home when I was 19. From 17 on, I was back and forth with girlfriends and families in a couple places. I met my daughter’s mother and she had my daughter. Her mom didn’t want anything to do with me because I didn’t have a high school diploma or college. But, I always kept a job.

I could always go home, but I chose to live on the streets. Whenever I would call my mom, she would say I could come home. But I told her I was alright, and I was under the illusion that I was taking care of myself.

I first came to HUM in 1998, when I was 28 years old. I only stayed for a week. I tried other recovery programs over the years, including another time back at HUM. I spent time in jail – for things I did and for things I did not do. I had jobs on and off – which also provided access to substances.

On Memorial Day 2012, the love of my life was taken away from me. She was murdered, and I lost my mind. I tried everything not to feel what I was feeling. Marijuana didn’t do it. Coke didn’t do it. As I was on my way to go buy some coke, an associate asked how I was doing. I said that I was trying to find something to numb the pain. He gave me a gram of raw dope. I didn’t like the way it made me feel, but it took away the pain. What I didn’t realize was that my using heroin to take away the pain was causing me even more pain. I came home one day and the locks were changed.

Eventually, in March 2016 I found my way back to HUM. I didn’t talk to other people when I came here; just the people who came in with me. We made a pact to be here for the year. Since I have been here, I’ve been dealing with my anger and changing my heart.

When the euphoria of getting high was gone, I became a very, very, very angry individual. I was angry at myself, angry at the world, and angry at the dude that took my wife from me. In my second week here, I was going to leave, but my Father [God] sent my Treatment Coordinator to come talk to me. I told him, “It’s my birthday and I don’t want to feel what I feel. The only way that I know how to deal with it is to get high.” He suggested I talk to the Director of Spiritual Life about my anger. I was looking for the quick fix – I thought he would give me a verse or a book to go read, but it wasn’t that simple. He gave me a bunch of reflective assignments. Every time I was in the recovery process, I thought it was about changing my thinking. But for me, it wasn’t about changing my thinking, but about changing my heart. And everything else will follow.

Now, I’m staying at HUM; I’m working on getting my high school diploma and I’m responsible for the housekeeping in three buildings. I’m working on other things, like vulnerability. I don’t have a problem being vulnerable to the Father because I know he is not going to hurt me and has my best interests; my problem is being vulnerable with people. Learn to distinguish which people who have your best interest at heart. The people at HUM have my best interest at heart. But I resist it; I don’t want you to know that I have any vulnerability in me. I don’t want you to know that I have the fillling of a Twinkie in me. Sometimes there’s a time to be angry, but I just don’t want to be angry anymore.

I don’t know what’s next for me; I just go where my Father tells me to go and do what He tells me to do.

Here’s a WBAL news segment that featured Anthony early in his time at HUM:

You may have heard about Mark Ramiro in the news. Late one night in July 2014, he was with several friends – all high on drugs. They were filming stunts in the basement of his South Baltimore home, until things went fatally awry. Mark’s friend of 15 years, Darnell Mitchell, strapped on a bulletproof vest and asked to be shot in the chest. But Mark aimed inches too high, and the bullet hit Darnell just above the vest. Mark rushed his friend to the hospital, but it was too late.

Mark came to Helping Up Mission in June 2015. He had already successfully participated in several short-term recovery programs, but he was still awaiting sentencing, and constantly wrestling with the trauma and shame of what he had done. In March 2016, Mark Ramiro was sentenced to 4 years – but he went to prison with 9 months’ clean time and, more importantly, a new perspective on his past and his future. Our chaplain, Vic King, spoke with Mark in jail.

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Both my parents worked all the time to put food on the table, so I was pretty much on my own with my friends. I didn’t really know who I was, because I looked Filipino, but I talked and carried myself more as a West-Baltimore American. I just went with the flow. I started experimenting with alcohol and weed in middle school, and by 9^th grade I was a real heavy weed smoker.

When I was 21, I went to art school in PA and got a degree in fashion marketing. I was making and selling t-shirts, doing tattoos, and filming music videos for local rap artists. But I started using pills – Percocets, Oxys, Opanas, Benzos – and it started affecting my whole character. And that led to my friend’s death.

You came to HUM on house arrest. What was it like at first?

Well, I broke the record for the longest restriction in Helping Up history (laughs) – it was either HUM or going to jail. So when I first got there I was upset; I didn’t want to be there. But I found Pastor Gary and Mike Rallo interesting. Pastor Gary would make me write the character quality of the week on the board every morning, because of my artistic skills.

I got real close to different guys. Mike is the security guy at the 23 desk, and they put me there for work therapy. We didn’t talk much at first. But he’s a giver, always helping other guys, and I would just observe him. Then we started talking. He trusted me for some reason, and that meant a lot to me. He could tell when I was going through stuff.

What aspect of HUM’s program helped you the most?

For me, I liked the spirituality – reading the Bible, praying, talking, meditating. A lot of times I would slip into the chapel, and sit in the corner where nobody could see me, and just think.

So how has God helped you in the midst of all this mess?

He’s helped me in trying to forgive myself, helped me not blame other people for my own screw-ups, helped me be open with other people, to talk with people. A lot of times in my life, I was antisocial. Maybe it was my character or maybe it was due to my drug addiction, I don’t know. But I try to follow what I’ve seen.

Before your sentencing, you were able to meet with your friend Darnell’s family. What was that like?

It was emotional, but it was good. It broke the ice. They were upset at me, which they have every right to be. I can’t be mad at that. For what I did, they were upset, but they were open, and they were forgiving. They hugged me a bunch of times. They told me how it hurt them, how it affected them. I apologized – words can’t express how sorry I am.

Describe your transition from HUM to prison.

Court was nerve-wracking. You pray for the best and expect the worst. I got nine years with five suspended. God works in mysterious ways, and I think he prepared me for that. Nobody wants to go to jail. I don’t care who you are, this place is not for anybody.

It was different from 2014 when I came here; it just felt different. I’m happy. Not to say I’m happy to be here, but I’m cool. I know this is temporary. I don’t know what the Big Man’s plans are for me, but this is part of it. This was like the icing on the cake to set things straight. And I think this is Him testing me too… Is this kid going to turn his back on Me? Is he going to lose his faith? Is he going to give up?

I still pray, frequently. I was reading the Gospel of John this morning. I think my faith in God kept me together. ‘Cause if you knew me then, and if you know me now, you could tell. I’m in the system… and I’m cool. I know it’s temporary. Walking around with a chip on your shoulder is not going to help. At all.

What are your hopes for life after prison?

I’m going to get a job, stay sober. I’m going to continue to do my artwork – paint, draw, hopefully open a t-shirt business. I want to tell people my story – the mistakes, the drug addiction – and see if I can help someone.

What would you want people to take from your story?

Be yourself, be honest. Have faith… because you have to lean on something beyond yourself. If you put yourself first, and you think it’s all about you, then you’re already lost. Stay clean, stay drug-free. I know it’s cliché to say, but it doesn’t lead anywhere but jail or death. God didn’t give you the blessing of life to waste it and to get trashed every day. You weren’t put on this earth for that. I’m happy to wake up every day, open my eyes and breathe.

Kody Jenkins, age 32, was raised in Carroll County. “I have always loved basketball,” says Kody. “I started playing when I was 5 years old and soon enrolled in community leagues.”

“When I was 12 years old, I started smoking weed and drinking. During my junior and senior year, I moved to acid and heroin and cocaine. I was still playing basketball. In my senior year, I was 3^rd in Carroll County for most points scored. Scouts started talking to me and I had a promising college basketball career to look forward to.

Arrested for the first time

“When I was 17 years old, I was arrested for the first time. I was in and out of courtrooms. Right after high school, I had an assault charge. Three days later, I was arrested on major drug charges. They gave me a nine year sentence of which I served about five years.

“After I got out of prison, I knew I still had the basketball talent but I saw the opportunity slipping way from me. I was in and out of rehabs and kept telling myself I would try to play basketball when I got the oppurtunity. Over the next 5 years, I was incarcerated 4 more times and went to rehabs 6 times.

“I didn’t have any relationship with my family during those years. I couldn’t look myself in the mirror let alone be around my family the way that I was. Because of my actions, I hurt family members very badly. I knew I had really messed up and that hurt even more badly than the prison time.

“I got to the point where I had no control over myself or my addiction. If I didn’t get help I would eventually start robbing stores or doing other things I didn’t want to do. I knew it was time to get help. I had heard about Helping Up Mission in the past and decided that it was time to give it a try.

Life was always on the run

“Before I came to the Mission, life was always on the run. I don’t remember ever enjoying life. After I had been at the Mission for a while, I noticed that I was starting to have fun. We went on a retreat to Camp Wabanna. I woke up early so I could catch the sunrise – it was serene. As I started to come to peace with myself, the dream of playing college basketball was reborn.

“My Dad was diagnosed with terminal cancer. When I heard the news, I realized I needed to be able to face him before he died and apologize for that pain I had caused. I had forgiven myself and I knew he had too but I needed to go to him. I visited him and we had a long talk – that was the start of our reconciliation.

Back on my Feet

“My Dad’s diagnosis gave me the motivation to start pursuing my dream of college basketball. I started working out and joined Helping Up Mission’s running team through Back On My Feet.

“I started talking to John, a HUM volunteer who works for Maryland Economic Opportunity Center – an organization that assists individuals in obtaining grants. He knew that I didn’t know how to get started. He helped me fill out the applications and helped me connect with the basketball coach at CCBC Dundalk.

“The coach invited me to attend an open house and try out. When I met the coach, I told him that I had a rough past and things were hard in my 20’s but I was there now. I told him that I wanted an education and I had been waiting for this opportunity for 14 years. He told me that everyone deserves a second chance and that they had a place for me on the team.

“Once I was accepted, I started preparing for college! I enrolled in a summer class to get me prepped for school. I also took advantage of the tutoring services at the Mission to prepare me for my placement classes. Having a tutor allowed me to pass the test and avoid two non-credit classes.

“Running with Back On My Feet prepared me to play basketball again.”

“Running with Back On My Feet prepared me to play basketball again. They taught me discipline through getting up and running every morning. Running helped me to improve my speed.

“I love playing basketball! I’ve been playing in the games and doing really well. It’s a dream come true to finally be playing college basketball.

“Helping Up Mission is a blessing! The Spiritual Recovery Program is set up in a wonderful way. I came to the Mission with a lot of pain. The first 45 days of the program when I was on restriction and unable to leave the building gave me time to stay still and get my head right. Having memory work in Pastor Gary’s class was important to help me start thinking again.

“Having access to counseling at the Mission was critical. The counselors helped guide me through the time with my Dad. They always pointed me back to my relationship with God.

“Helping Up Mission has everything you need to change you life but it’s not going to fall in your lap. At the Mission, I realized that I needed to seize those opportunities. They give you anything you need to change your life!

Michael Knighton, age 54, grew up in East Baltimore. “When I was a young boy, I got into boxing because of my brother,” says Michael. “My brother had me out on the corners getting into fights with other kids to earn money when I was about 7. My step-father found out what was happening. He took me off of the corner and to a boy’s club where I could be trained in boxing. I was excited about training and did a lot of amateur boxing.

“When I was 10 years old, my step-father took my mother and brother and I on a boat ride. My step-father saw a little boy in distress in the water. He jumped in to save the little boy’s life. He saved the little boy as well as the boy’s parents. But, on his way back to our boat, my step-father was caught in a current and drowned. I wanted to try to save him but my mother held me back.

“I used to take out my anger in the boxing ring. Boxing was everything to me. When I was 19, I threw a punch and blew my shoulder out. I was rushed into surgery. That surgery led to subsequent surgeries and many pain medications to try to control the pain.

“Boxing had been my outlet to deal with my anger. From that point on, I was heavily into pain medication. I started getting into trouble – forging prescriptions to get more medicine. I was breaking the law all of the time to feed my habit. I was in and out of jail a lot. Eventually I moved from pain pills to heroin.

“For 30 years, I lived dependent on drugs. My body was so used to opiates that, without them, I didn’t feel normal. I was homeless and alone. Earlier in my life, I had gotten two teardrop tattoos on my face. As I walked the streets, I felt that people were always judging me because of my tattoos. I didn’t feel like a normal member of society.

“I finally told myself that enough was enough and it was time to get clean. If I could lie on a prison floor and sober up, I could do it on my own. I went to a methadone program but they wouldn’t accept me.

“I started walking with nowhere to go. I came to the 1000 block of East Baltimore Street and saw the sign for Helping Up Mission. I remembered the good things I had heard about this place so I decided to stay for the night. After hearing about the Spiritual Recovery Program, I decided to give it a try. I had nothing to lose!

“My body was in agony for the first two months that I was at the Mission. My nervous system was a mess as I went through withdrawals after 30 straight years of heroin use. My legs would twitch at night as I tried to fall asleep. I felt like my body had been invaded by an alien being who jumped up and tortured me whenever he felt like it.

“I was assigned to a mental health counselor. I started talking about things that I’d never opened up to anyone about – private matters that I never felt comfortable dealing with. I started to learn to trust people and began to realize that not everyone was judging me. I started to get the sense that people were starting to view me differently and I began to feel accepted.

“As I started to view myself as a different person, I wanted my body to reflect the changes that were happening inside. I decided that it was time to get rid of my tear drop tattoos that, for so many years, had been a visible symbol of my pain.

“My mental health counselor helped me look for a place that could help me with that and she reached out to Maryland Laser Skin and Vein. She explained my situation and how I was working to change my life. They agreed to do the procedures for free. When it was done, the doctor told me the staff was proud of me and to continue on in my good work.

“The first day that I walked around without the tattoos on my face, I finally didn’t feel like an outcast anymore. I was able to walk in stores and not feel like I was being judged as a gang member or trouble maker.

“About that same time, I started working out again. I started out slowly and got back into my old routine before long. I started giving exercise advice to the guys who were in the fitness center with me. It felt great to be able to help them.

“I also started getting dental work done through the Mission’s dental program. When I entered the program, I didn’t have any teeth at all because of an issue with a mouthpiece during my boxing days. Now, I have a full set of teeth!

“I feel so confident these days and am walking with my head held high. People look at me and acknowledge me who would have never given me a second glance a year ago. But, my change isn’t just on the outside. On the inside, I can feel everything going on. My feelings and emotions were sedated by my drug use for so many years. Now I get emotional in ways I never had before.

“I was 19 when my son was born. I was in and out of his life. His life has been filled with a lot of my broken promises. After I came to the Mission, we started communicating again and we are working on our relationship.

“Since I’ve been at the Mission, my relationship with God has grown. I can clearly see how He has been working in my life – no one else could make the transformation happen but Him.

“HUM has become family to me. Every day I look forward to being with the other men here. I find ways to help someone and that means a lot to me.

“I’m so thankful to all of the donors that make HUM a reality. Because of them, men like me and the other guys at HUM get a second chance at life. Helping Up Mission was put here as a gift from God so we get a chance to mend our lives and our relationships with others we have hurt in the past. Today I am the man I always knew in my heart that I could be.”