You have to start over somewhere in order to learn what you missed during your addiction. And I got to start over at Phoenix House. I am thankful morning, noon, and night that I was able to rise from the ashes of my defeat.
“I can remember it as clear as day: it was 1970. Pizza cost 15 cents. I was fifteen years old, in Junior High School, and this guy I knew came up to me with a little white bag and gave me something to sniff. As soon as I took it I was hooked.”
“I was living on the streets and sleeping on the train. One day, I woke up and thought, ‘There’s got to be more to life than this!’ Phoenix House taught me how to change from within.”
The best part of my recovery is that I get to exist like a normal person doing everyday things, having everyday relationships, just getting to wake up in the morning and say, “Damn, I’m glad to be alive.”
“The worst part of my addiction was when I was homeless; my family didn’t want anything to do with me. Phoenix House gave me a sense of purpose that I didn’t have before.”