“I couldn’t do five miles. I couldn’t. But, before I knew it, I was walking a quarter mile, a half mile, a mile, and two miles.”
Levolia, age 51, known affectionately as Lee at Helping Up Mission and Prudence to family and friends, was born and raised in Baltimore, Maryland. “My mother and father were both addicts,” remembered Lee. “My mother loved me but abandoned me in a hospital at an early age. My mother’s cousin Beverly raised me for a while, and she loved me as much as she could. At age 8, my mother’s oldest sister Alberta, who was better off financially, stepped in, moved me in with her, and sent me to private schools. But I missed my mom and moved back with her to Cherry Hill, Baltimore.”
Thinking back on her young life, Lee remembers ‘Love.’ “Our neighborhood was tight knit. Everybody knew everybody. I had an older sister and a younger brother, and we all slept in the same room. My father had another child from another lady. I loved my half-sister so much. I do not remember childhood trauma. I just remember love!”
“My mother and sister were so close. I was about 25 when my mother died. I did not want to go to the funeral and my family literally carried me out of the house. And my sister did not cry or mourn my mother, like I did. So, I asked her why she was not more upset, and she said, she got high because the ‘drugs sedated her.’ After my mom’s death I wanted to try drugs and they begged me not to. At the time I was working as an executive secretary. I had money, a young baby, and I was young. But I did not want to feel the pain and from using drugs my entire world crumbled.”
“I always knew about God because of my maternal aunts. They were saved at a young age. God called them one day and they became devout Christians. They introduced me to church and how to have a relationship with God. They planted a seed in me that became watered when I came to Helping Up Mission (HUM). My aunt Alberta told me about HUM. I responded by saying that is only for men and she said, ‘they now have a Center for Women & Children!’ HUM was nothing that I thought it would be. God resides here. It is a place where people care about you holistically. I am being healed physically, emotionally, and spiritually.”
“Today I am doing stuff that I have never done before. I do not recognize the old me. I am 51 years old, and God saved my life. I remember before I got to HUM, sitting on my bed, and crying and asking God, if You are real You gotta show me, You gotta save me. I cried all day. I ‘used’ to live, and I lived to ‘use.’ I was the ‘living dead.’ Today, I am LIVING!”
“I went to a recovery convention in Front Royal, Virginia recently. It was beautiful in the mountains and the personal stories were powerful. I was really encouraged. I have gone to equine therapy. I was able to get my birth certificate and social security card. I am meeting with Brett Hartnet and Whitney Mugula in Workforce Development to work on my education. Before, I gave everything away, but now I see that God allowed everything to be taken. God is my everything. I am excited and things are opening up!”
“I joined Back on My Feet (BOMF). We walk one to three miles every Thursday. It is prepping us to be a part of Team HUM for the 5k at the Baltimore Running Festival on October 15. I am 51 and I couldn’t do five miles. I couldn’t. But, before I knew it, I was walking a quarter mile, a half mile, a mile, and two miles. I used to walk around the chapel and sing to God. I am in the choir, and people started telling me that I need to get involved with BOMF! People see things in each other that we do not see in ourselves.”
“I have never had a personal relationship with God. It was not until I came to HUM. It is like you plant a seed in a pot and the seed becomes a stalk, and the next day it grows a leaf. In four months, my spirit has been strengthened. I used to blame Him for my mom and dad being addicts. But God saw fit to save me. In Jeremiah 29:11 “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord. I do not have to worry, because right now I do not know what I want to be when I grow up. But God has plans for me. I always wanted what I want and now I want His will instead of my own.”
“Looking forward to the future, I know that I will be helping other people. Telling them that there is eternal life. I want to be where God puts me. I can go to work, obey the rules of HUM, spend time with God and maybe somebody will see that.”
“To the donors like Terry and Bob who tirelessly help in our library, these people give of themselves of their time, effort, prayers, and money I am so thankful. That is how God intended us to work and come together. There are many other women, and men who are grateful at HUM. We are thankful to God for allowing you to have the mind and heart to do what you do, and we are thankful to YOU for doing it!”
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“I stopped hiding from God and started turning toward Him.”
Terri, age 58, was born in Montgomery County and then in and out of multiple foster homes. “I was in three foster homes. I was never in one place for too long,” she recalls. “I left my third foster home when I was 18 and lived in Mount Ranier, Maryland for a year before spending the next seven years in Oregon. I came back to Maryland and got a place of my own. I worked different jobs. I worked hard, played hard, and partied hard. I drank alcohol since I was 10. At 15, I started smoking marijuana which led to harder drugs. Using drugs was social to me. I enjoyed it.”
“15 years ago, my mom was dying, and I got deeper into drugs. My relationship fell apart. I lost my job due to a failing economy. A lot of things were happening at once. Instead of drinking at 5pm, I started drinking earlier in the day which turned into drinking all day, every day.”
“Eventually, I got a little clean time under my belt, was going to meetings and staying connected but I was working at Giant Foods and living in a recovery house where I was assistant manager. I was tired and working too much, so, I stopped going to meetings, and quit taking care of myself. After a while I was going through physical and emotional pain and there was a liquor store right there. Instead of telling people what I was going through and reaching out for help, I made the decision to take that one drink. My drinking snowballed and I drank more and more. My house manager finally called me out.”
“One day, I heard a friend of mine Tina speaking to her counselor about Helping Up Mission (HUM) being a spiritual program. I asked her what she meant, and she explained that it had to do with God. I have been hiding from Him due to my shame and guilt and I needed to turn back to HIM. I was crying for help!”
“The hardest part about coming to HUM was opening up about the scared little girl in me. I had so much shame, guilt, and a lack of trust. I did not open up right away, but when I did, I jumped in with two feet. I started to relax and want what was being offered. I found a sponsor and took advantage of the therapy that was being offered. My faith is getting a lot stronger every day. I stopped hiding from God and started turning toward Him.”
“Recovery is a process. It is slow healing, but I have tapped into the things that I have learned about myself. Where in the past I would not feel pain and stuff my feelings down, today I feel what I am feeling, understand what I am feeling, and share my feelings with people I trust. I am happier. I came in with a lot of guilt and shame, but today I am smiling! I am laughing! I am proud of myself today, because I have a relationship with the Lord, and I live with a family instead of in an institution.”
“I mean, I will never get used to getting up at six in the morning, but I am grateful to be here. It is not easy, but it is doable. And when you put in the work, before you know it, you are feeling better spiritually, mentally, physically, and emotionally. And that is important because HUM is a safety net. They give you the tools, give you hope, and give you excitement for what you can do. I am surrounded by beautiful people here.”
Today, Terri is the first security peacekeeper in our Women’s Spiritual Recovery Program, and as far as her future goes, “I do not try to look too far ahead, because all my life I have had instability. As I trust in the Lord, my faith grows stronger, people have my back, and I try to do the next right thing. I just want to stay at HUM because I am welcome to do so, and I am so grateful for that. I want to stay focused on my recovery and work on Terri. I have a healthy better life and that is all that I want right now. I trust what I am doing because I want this”
“I encourage people like me to give themselves a chance. Come in through HUM’s door and you will be all right. There are people here who care, there is help, and there is love. There is so much for you to do at HUM that you can have a better life. Give yourselves a chance to live instead of existing!”
“To the people that make everything possible at HUM. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. You are kind, caring, and amazing! I would love to meet all of you in person and thank you, because you have changed so many people’s lives – the ones that have come before, the ones that are here, and the ones that are coming. We NEED this! Thank you!”
Jonathan, age 45, was born in Miami, Florida, and raised in Severna Park, Maryland. He spent his formative years with his father. “I love him, but a lot of things were kept behind the scenes. And I watched a man that I respected my whole life, completely deconstruct through drinking. In 1997 he hit a big wall and sobered up. His life completely turned around,” recalls Jonathan. “Because of this, I have always been interested in the dynamic of parental role models. I needed to know these things.”
“I graduated high school and got accepted into schools with scholarship offers. In an act of hatred, I took the educational path off the table. My father thought that I did not want to go to college, but I did not go because I hated my father. The flood gates of addiction completely opened for me when I turned 21. I remember buying my first beer and drinking by myself. At that point, I knew it was a bad idea. I got into the restaurant business and that environment became gas on the fire of my addiction. For ten years, I wanted to go back to school and try and repair my relationship with my dad.”
“I developed anger issues that resulted into borderline rage. One day, I came to work drunk, got into an argument with my manager, and got fired. I would be allowed to come back to work if I sobered up. The next day I went to my first Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) meeting and it just hit the right spot. Soon after I started going to meetings, my friend hired me to work at his restaurant. The new job brought me back to Severna Park and the bus route that I would take drove right by Anne Arundel Community College (AACC). To me that was a huge sign. So, after ten years, I finally ended up going back to school. I was sober. I was going to AA meetings. I had a good sponsor. I had a good place to live. I developed a genuine enthusiasm for academia and wanting to succeed.”
“I would graduate AACC, then the University of Maryland with a degree in English language and literature. Being sober made it all possible. But, one night I decided to celebrate and celebrating became drinking. Even though I finally fulfilled what I dreamed of doing, I left college in a self-induced black cloud. I ruined the experience. My girlfriend since childhood told me that she ‘loved me but, could not watch me do this to myself again,’ and left me.”
Jonathan would spend the next few years bouncing from job to job, and hotel to hotel. “I celebrated my 43rd birthday in Portland, Maine. I was killing myself drinking and could not grasp the thought of my dad seeing my body on a slab. I called my father and told him that I was scared and could not live like this any longer. I got on a train the next day and came home. When I got there, my stepmother informed me that they knew about my problems and would like to suggest a place for me to go. ‘We would like you to try Helping Up Mission (HUM) in Baltimore.’ “
“I arrived at HUM in March. I had no other choice. But old habits die hard, and I relapsed and was out by October. My anger and rage came back and one of my best friends ended up calling the Sheriff’s office on me. And by that December, I was outside, alone, cold, and frightened. I had hit my ‘rock-bottom.’ “
“God, please help me get out of this! I called my friends at HUM and they told me to ‘just get here.’ I agreed. The next day, waiting for the bus and freezing cold God answered my plea. The bus that I was waiting for was not going to stop. He told me ‘go stand in front of that bus.’ It worked, the bus practically ran over me, but it stopped.”
Jonathan had to spend three weeks in HUM’s Overnight Guest Services (OGS) when he arrived. “Pete Griffin, Assistant Director of Programs, told me to ‘figure some stuff out for myself.’ And John Mister, OGS Treatment Coordinator, told me ‘to just show up, consistently, to prove that I wanted recovery.’ It was a humbling experience, but three weeks later he asked me if ‘I had anything to take care of?’ I said, no, everything is right in front of me. My diligence finally paid off and I was admitted back into the program.”
“The initial ‘Seed Phase’ (45-day blackout) moved quickly. After that was over, I started going out and walking for exercise – on purpose. A passion that I carry to this day. I also appreciated the continuity of knowing what I was doing, having been in the program before. I was held accountable, but there was room for me being able to ask, ‘am I doing the right thing.’ I learned how to let things go. I meditated, prayed, and read. We went on a therapeutic mountain biking trip. Getting on the bike helped me parlay my walking into hiking. I have been training with a 40-pound pack, so that during the next year I can hike the Appalachian Trail from Maine to Georgia.”
“Thinking about what the future may hold, I have a lot more faith in my abilities. I could do a multitude of things. And one of them might have to be sitting still for a while, and I can live with that. I have gratitude for so many people here. HUM is an awesome, beautiful thing.”
Our feature story this month focuses on the journey of Rick W., a 53 year old Navy veteran, who was born in New Jersey and raised in Boston. His alcoholic parents divorced when Rick was 8, and he took it hard. His family moved to Florida and eventually back to Boston. His father was now a raging abusive alcoholic and at age 12 Rick would have to intervene. Coincidentally, Rick started drinking alcohol at age 12, to escape loneliness and the childhood trauma of bullying. “I could not sleep at night and sometimes I got very depressed. The first time that I drank, I had four beers and I liked it so much and from then on, if there was anyway that I could get a drink, I would,” Rick remembers.
Rick feels that some of his bullying was brought on by himself. A lover of fiction, especially the stories by F Scott Fitzgerald and Hemingway, Rick would frequently dress up in white sports coats and tweed pants. “I just really got into that period of time. They (the characters) had freedom. They were always drinking, partying, and having a great time. I realize now that the books were my first indication that alcoholism was not great for me to have. And at the time, I realized that I was an alcoholic.
Eventually Rick dropped out of high school to join the service. “I was tired of school. I was tired of people. I wanted to be able to take care of myself. So I joined the Navy, and I thought that it would be a place where I could get my life back under control.”
At first, Rick trained to become a medic hospital corpsman. But, when he was getting ready to go to his first duty station, things changed. “I was told that I would become an “8048” and that’s a combat medic. It never dawned on me that I would end up a Marine. So I went to bootcamp and became indoctrinated into the Marine Corps, from how to salute to combat techniques.”
After spending time in Asia, Rick began training at Twentynine Palms Marine Combat Center in the Californian desert. “In January of 1991, we got our orders. I thought that I would not have nightmares anymore, I wouldn’t have to be bullied anymore. Fitzgerald became a distant memory. But it (war) changes you. The sounds of gunfire, the sounds of explosions. I was in Operation Desert Storm. I walked into battle with a gun in my hand and walked out with a strange sense of guilt that I have carried for the rest of my life.”
Once the war was over Rick’s life didn’t change for the better and drinking started to affect his military career. On one excursion in Somalia, he was sweeping a village, when an insurgent stabbed him with a crude knife. “I still have the scar, (the knife) got me deep enough that it took out my appendix, part of my large intestine, and almost nicked my spine. I spent three months in the hospital and four weeks learning how to walk again.”
The hospital administered morphine to ease Rick’s pain, but alcohol was his painkiller. “Being a medic, I knew that I was an alcoholic. Just like I knew it when I was a teenager. I never wanted to stop. I have Barrett’s esophagus from reflux attacks. And yet I still drank!”
In October of 2019, a peer recovery specialist named Joyce recognized that Rick needed long-term help and recommended Helping Up Mission (HUM). “For the first 45 days, I spent so much time in the chapel. It was the first time ever that I felt the Spirit come to me. I prayed to God to
please take the pain and anxiety away from me. And then I felt it all go away. I learned how to actually talk to God.”
At one point, Rick learned that he was staying in the program and doing recovery for himself. He wanted to finish the program. “Something about the graduations, keep you going. Seeing people phase up, seeing people graduate, and halfway through the year, you start noticing people that you have been interacting with. And you think maybe I can do this.”
“It’s funny when you come to HUM, you feel totally lost. And at some point, you are a part of it. It becomes your family.
Speaking of family, “The biggest highlight for me this year is because of all the work I have done, on August 22, my fiancee Elizabeth married me. She married me because she really believed and continues to believe in me. I never felt worthy. I was just a nice drunk. I drank alone. I never really was in love with anybody, I did not even love myself. I was able to marry the love of my life, and I would not be able to do that if it was not for HUM.
“Combat will change you forever. You will never look at the world the same. When you open up and believe in God, you finally know that you do not have to carry as much guilt. You can confess and feel whole again. The same goes for drinking. You can be forgiven. I’m a better father and a good husband. And I am going to become a Peer Recovery Specialist to help others turn their life around.
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.”
Paul P, 61, was born in Baltimore City. He was the youngest of four boys, raised in a family that liked to drink. “I remember my mother constantly, albeit gently, reminding my father to please not drink a lot. And my dad would say “sure honey, I promise that I won’t.” By age 7, in order to be a part of the family, Paul learned to mix cocktails and sooned crafted Harvey Wallbangers for the men and Whiskey Sours for the women. “I had no desire to drink, I just wanted to have fun and fit in. This was my family’s way of life, they loved to drink.”
“I withheld drinking right up to the legal age of 18, when at my high school graduation I drank to celebrate becoming an adult. I remember drinking beer and at some point I switched to Southern Comfort.” Paul’s first and overzealous experience with alcohol led to vomiting profusely throughout the night. It was enough for Paul to experience the negative effects of drinking, and he quit the next day. He stayed sober until he turned 35.
After graduating from Towson University, Paul moved to New York City to pursue a career in theatre, his passion. After a successful period in show business, he joined the corporate world as a telecommunications trainer. Although he found happiness and success, Paul was not prepared for a looming trauma that would launch him toward alcoholism.
On the morning of September 11, 2001, Paul was on his way to a business meeting at the World Trade Center. He had just boarded a subway train at Grand Central Station when the first plane hit the North Tower. In that moment, while in the subway, everything stopped. “I was stuck and terrorized.” The events of 9/11 traumatized him so irreparably that he packed up and moved to Atlanta, where he began drinking heavily in isolation.
“I kept a pantry stacked with empty wine and vodka bottles from floor to ceiling. I was so ashamed of my drinking and the quantity of bottles, that on recycling days I would disperse them evenly throughout my neighborhood trash bins. And yet, a highly functioning alcoholic, I was able to work and maintain my daily schedule.”
“Around this time I became increasingly involved in ministry at St. Mark United Methodist Church in Atlanta. I reconnected with my theatrical inner spirit by writing, directing, choreographing, and acting in their drama ministry.” In 2017, Paul’s overindulgent drinking caught up with him. The church’s Pastor recognized his struggles with alcohol and alerted Paul’s brother David to the fact thatPaul needed help. The family that Paul tried so hard to fit into immediately sprung into action and offered an intervention. They got him onto a flight to Baltimore and when he arrived they witnessed how bad his addiction had become. Paul couldn’t walk. The tremors from his new withdrawal rendered his legs useless and he had to be brought to the car via a wheelchair. Paul was broken.
Upon returning to Maryland, Paul was admitted to a thirty day program at the National Institute of Health in Bethesda (NIH). “This was physical recovery, I could walk again. Immediately upon discharge from NIH, my brother brought me to Helping Up Mission (HUM). After the intake process, David kept asking if I was going to be OK? And I said,” I’m going to be fine, this is good, I am where I need to be.”
During his first Friday chapel, (which is open to the public at 1:30pm) Paul heard our HUM Choir and Band perform for the first time and immediately asked “Miss Kim” (HUM Board Member and Choir Director Kim Lewis) to join. Once again, Paul found where he needed to be.
For the first six months of his one-year Spiritual Recovery Program, Paul traveled with the Choir all over the Greater Baltimore Area to sing at churches and community events. Engaging with other people through an activity he loves enabled Paul to feel accepted within his community.
After his blackout period (45 days of limited communication) ended, Paul became heavily involved in another community– Alcoholics Anonymous. “I got a home group at Canton Beginners; where I am now the secretary, got a sponsor, and started doing the 12 Steps. I also started attending and participating in institutional commitments. Going out into the surrounding areas and meeting like-minded people, struggling with their own addictions where they are. I enjoy the camaraderie.”
Paul’s Work Therapy Assignments included work in the Philanthropy office, where he developed his interpersonal skills with donors. His new role as Graduate Library Intern enables him to give back to the men we serve. “I work closely with Miss Betty, the library volunteer administrator, to coordinate and develop the book orders. But the most satisfying aspect of my job is helping the men use the computer, many for the first time! I’m just giving back to the place that saved my life.”
Currently, Paul is performing again with the Baltimore Men’s Chorus, where he recently directed and choreographed a cabaret at Spotlighters Theatre downtown. He is heavily involved at the Gallery Church Baltimore, his home church, working with Lead Pastor Ellis Prince. Thanks to you, Paul has found a new family.
Brian, 50, was born in the Eastern Panhandle of West Virginia. His father left the family coal company to work at Bethlehem Steel in Baltimore. When Brian was 11 his grandfather died, so his father needed to return to West Virginia to take over the business. Brian’s mother didn’t want to go, and chose to stay in Baltimore with Brian. “I felt that I did something wrong, because my father left,” Brian remembers.
Brian’s earliest addiction was money. “I thought my father left with everything, so I got a job to impress him. I was delivering papers, but I was also delivering drugs for my step-brother. There were times that he gave me $500 per week. When I was 16 years old, I went to Fox Chevrolet and paid $14,672 for a new Chevy van. My mother was so proud of me—she thought it was from delivering papers.”
“I worked hard and sold drugs. I was a functioning addict who used cocaine, but my mother was a nurse and she thought cocaine wasn’t addictive. I’d get clean for 60 days and then I’d start using again, but in my mind I wasn’t an addict. I started selling heroin and made fun of the people I sold to. As it turns out, my God has a sense of humor. I got hurt at work and needed back surgery. I started using Fentanyl patches and I was good to go, but when they said I didn’t need the medication anymore I started snorting dope. I became what I had judged.”
“Last year my mother got really sick. She was dying. She was in hospice and my family didn’t tell me because I was so messed up. Then my mother didn’t call me for my birthday, and I got worried. I later found a message from her—she had been in a coma and came out of it to look for me. I went to see her, but did dope in the bathroom while I was there. A nurse caught me and started crying. She said, “you’re killing your mother, get some help.” I didn’t know what to do. I’ll never forget the day I was with a girl, and the next thing I know I’m waking up from the inside of a rubber body bag. Paramedics hit me six times with Narcan. I haven’t seen that girl to this day, but if it wasn’t for her finding help I’d be dead. I knew that I had to do something, so I went to detox at Bayview. I was there for ten days when they usually only give you three. They suggested Helping Up Mission. The following Monday, at six o’clock in the morning, I was here. And I’ve been here ever since.”
“I decided that I was going to succeed. I started going to meetings every night of the week and bringing new guys with me. I got a sponsor and I started doing step work. I read the Bible, especially the daily Proverbs. This program has given me the structure that I needed in my life. You have to change the way you’re living. Today, I can walk through things instead of around them, even when it’s not great. I want to be clean more than I want to be high no matter what.”
“Three weeks ago my mother died, but before she did I went to the hospital and said, “Mom, I love you.” She responded, “I love you too.” I said, “Mom, you’re going to be alright,” and she said, “No, you’re going to be alright. I love you,” and she closed her eyes. I came back to the HUM and dealt with it. It’s not easy, but life shows up. At my home group I celebrated a year clean with a couple hundred people there.”
Brian now runs the crew for HUM’s maintenance work therapy program. He helps with the interview process and brings guys in with the right skills. Brian says, “ it helps with their recovery, and I point them in the right direction. I’ve got guys beating the door down at six o’clock in morning. I tell the guys to do everything that’s suggested, and they can’t tell me it doesn’t work.”
“Today, I get on my knees every day and say, ”Not my will but Yours be done.” I believe that this is what he wants me to do. I just take that little step, and God will take it the rest of the way. I don’t know how, I can’t see it, I can’t touch it. But I know it.”
“Relapse changed my perspective”
Nick is 35 years old. Born in Laurel, MD, he had a good childhood. Raised by both of his parents and with help from his grandmother, Nick grew up secure.
After graduating from high school Nick started working in the restaurant business, during which time he first tried alcohol with a group of friends. A fiercely private young man, Nick was coping with a lot of complicated feelings, and he found that the alcohol helped him fit in. For the first time he felt comfortable. As is common , working in food service contributed immensely to his budding drinking issues due to the ease of finding alcohol. Before long Nick started consuming large amounts.
At age 20 Nick got his first DUI, which didn’t halt his drinking. He denied that he had a problem, and quickly picked up another DUI eight months later. Nick recalls, “I rolled that car off of a ramp, looked around, made sure my friends were ok, chucked the wine and waited for the police.” The shock of the accident was immense and Nick got arrested, but it was not enough to stop his attachment to alcohol. Throughout the next decade Nick’s habit turned into that of a “functional alcoholic”. Although he was not healthy,he got by.
When Nick moved to California his family was unaware ofhow bad his drinking had become. “I was out of sight, out of mind,” Nick says. “Everybody was drinking in West Hollywood, my lifestyle was accepted.My eight years in California was rinse and repeat, the insanity of doing the same things over and over.”
Eventually Nick returned to Maryland. In 2016 the downward spiral of his life reached a low point when he ended up passed out on the ground in Baltimore County. “The police woke me up and they asked if I was suicidal. I said no, but if I keep drinking like this aren’t I slowly killing myself?” They immediately took me to Harford Memorial Hospital for detox. After eight days of treatment Nick was given the opportunity to go to Helping Up Mission for a year of Spiritual Recovery. Recognizing his addiction, Nick made his way to HUM.
For eight months Nick became heavily involved in our one-year Spiritual Recovery Program, eventually becoming an Intern in the Philanthropy Department. Nick says, “I was a yes man, a model client, helping where I could and frankly doing too much and not working on my own recovery”. Overly confident, Nick thought, “ I got this.” One day he developed the idea that “Maybe I was a heavy drinker and not an alcoholic,” and went out and bought some vodka. One was never enough, and relapse was imminent.
When men are asked to leave the program for violating the rules, they must wait three months to reapply. Nick settled into a sober living home, but his addiction got the best of him. “I felt that there was unfinished business, that I left [HUM] too soon,” Nick recalls. After four months, Nick reentered the Mission and decided to do things differently. “I needed to work on my character defects and start paying more attention to my own recovery,” he says. “I don’t just call this a Spiritual Recovery Program, I call it a place of opportunity, you can work on anything while you are here and Helping Up has the tools to do so.”
Today, Nick has connected more with his Higher Power, and makes prayer and daily inventory a part of his routine. “I check my mind, body, and soul to keep up with the small changes and triggers that I experience. This really is helpful to my recovery. This is not just a recovery model, but a good life choice for all human beings.”
Finally, Nick states, “Even though I believe that relapse does not have to be a part of recovery, for me it had to be. Relapse changed my perspective and “I am grateful that HUM had the resources to accommodate me after my relapse, so that I was able to return and continue to make a full recovery. Others aren’t so lucky….”
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.”
Randy says that it is all about relationships. Randy grew up Catholic, but by the time he was 10 years old, his family stopped going to church. As he got a little older, he tried to find something spiritual. He says that “he always believed there was a God, but not in the structured way, or [he] only conceived of an angry, resentful God.” Randy always thought of himself as a good person, to whom bad things happened. Before entering the one-year residential Spiritual Recovery Program (SRP) at Helping Up Mission (HUM) in 2016, Randy lost his father, mother and close friend all within a very short period of time. Maybe he had to lose all of these people to stand on his own and establish new relationships.
In the first few days at HUM, instead of losing people, he started to gain real friends. Kim Lewis, one of HUM’s Board members who co-leads the Choir and Band with Kirk Wise, invited Randy to join the choir only days after entering the SRP. Randy had never sung publically, although he had always performed in orchestra and band. He was extremely nervous when he started singing, particularly as he was one of two men singing tenor high parts. Choir helped fill up his weekend with positive activity when he was on “blackout” (restricted to campus for 45 days). Now, Randy has joined the choir at his “home church”, St. Leo’s in Little Italy, and sings regularly at mass. He also attends recovery meetings on Sunday and Wednesday.
Music has become a huge part of his life. Randy comments, “It calms me down and has so much emotion”. Kirk also teaches a class called “The Power of Music”. Randy remembers a specific song that powerfully impacted him called “The Sower”. It compares people to soil and that with hard soil, God has to get in there and help break it down before nutrients and seed can be planted. A massive tree emerges as the result of the hard work.
Miss Kim also connected Randy to Monday night Bible Study at HUM, which is part of Randy’s weekly routine. Randy started helping out with playing the videos for Monday night Bible study, which taught him how to use the A/V system, a skill needed for Treatment Intern duties that were eventually assigned to him. Another door opened!
The Spiritual Retreats have also provided vital opportunities for life change. In the past and when he first entered the SRP at HUM, he always had to fill his time and space – filling the boredom led to drug use. But now, he feels better, describing this as “inner peace”. Randy explains, “I’m OK with myself”. He has moved from bored
om (or fear of it) to calm. He credits the spiritual retreats as part of this, attending Camp Wabanna, Bon Secours and CREDO.
Camp Wabanna contributed to this calm Randy feels by helping him be by himself. Randy doesn’t play sports, and so he spent time in the beautiful environment sitting and reading his Bible. Within a group of 300 men in the SRP at one time, it can be easy to just see people in passing, but Randy felt that he took the time to really get to know people on this retreat.
At Bon Secours, he learned a discipline called the “Daily Examen”, crediting it for changing his life and outlook. He says, “It has put a new spin on life”. He used to think about what he didn’t do or accomplish in a day, but after learning the examen, he is reviewing what he accomplished over the day. It has turned his all of his thoughts from negative ones, to positive! He is sleeping better as a result, too.
Additionally, Randy has realized life “isn’t all about [him]”. Instead of reacting to everything in dramatic fashion, he is praying about things. He hadn’t realized before how much anxiety he was experiencing before because he dealt with it by “drinking and drugging”. He has realized that whatever is going on won’t kill him and that everyone has to suffer sometimes. He is starting to see things through God’s eyes and in a Christ-like form. He has been “promoted” to an Intern at HUM, and where he gets so much joy out of seeing other people grow – he’s so grateful.
Randy is really learning how to build relationships
Randy has now been at HUM for nearly one year, he is performing his role as an Intern in the Treatment Office, and has entered a process of discernment with the Catholic Church about priesthood. He is seeking balance in life rather than vacillating between working crazy amounts and avoiding people with “me time”. He is learning to take little of everything at the “buffet of life”, but not overindulging on anything. Randy is really learning how to build relationships and says that “he never had friends like at HUM.”
Randy helps other people find their path!
In his role as an Intern, Randy has to deal with a lot of different personalities. He learns that he can’t put expectations on people because they all come from different backgrounds. And he is learning how to manage his own expectations about himself. If he can make it through the day without a drink, that is enough sometimes. This is some good training for him, particularly if he receives a call to priesthood, as he looks forward to working with people from all walks of life and helping them find their own way. This is really what gives him joy – helping other people find their path! And, it would not have been possible without the integration of spirituality in HUM’s programs.