Narconon Trois-Rivieres Success Story

So how did you get into the "drug culture"?

I know it would seem I got into it in high school, like my parents thought, but while I was still at home, I didn’t really get into drugs, I just tried them a couple of times. Once I ran away from home, I didn’t care anymore. It started with PCP, as it was the first one presented to me. I remember that I thought I was with friends. I later discovered that one of them was a dealer; and dealers are never your friends, it‘s an oxymoron that I learned too late. He'd offered some very casually & for free of course, with a look on his face that one would have if they were giving a friend a lift to the store when it’s raining out. I had no idea what to expect and ended up taking so much I almost overdosed.

Why I ever tried it again, is a mystery to me, since I had such a bad trip, but in later attempts it’s the mind numb and pain-killing effect it had that I sought. I ended up taking it virtually every day for a whole summer once I figured out the “right” self-prescribed dose. It’s amazing that I had no idea I was playing with fire. All I knew was that the pain would go away. The physical and mental pain I had in me, and all the anger I had; it seemed to bring relief. I hated myself, I generally hated people, didn't think my life was fun, and it seemed there really wasn’t much to live for. I really had no idea why I was alive or lived; drugs seemed to be the only thing that helped me feel better.

Most street punks I hung out with only drank, smoked pot, did mushrooms and some chemicals (acid/LSD and PCP) - but never any junk (cocaine, crack and heroin) and definitely no needles.

I was curious however, and since I was doing drugs now, I wanted to try heroin. As there was absolutely no way I could do it with them, I never mention it.

Eventually I heard about how easy it was to get it on Hastings Street in Vancouver, so I hitchhiked to Vancouver with some "friends". I remember getting stuck in Calgary when I lost my hitchhiking partner on the way, and ended up staying there for about three weeks. At that time I did a lot of mushrooms. Because my first mushroom trip was really good I would often consume so much that I wouldn’t be myself at all. I couldn't understand anything that was going on. I bad tripped every time. Just like marijuana, yet I was guaranteed a bad trip on pot, I hated that buzz, it always messed me up so badly. It was the hardest thing to keep control of my body, vision or thoughts while on pot.

Once in Vancouver (always downtown) I met up with people I knew from Montreal and ended up staying for about two months. I went out looking for PCP, since it was the drug I was most familiar with. It’s odd but when I look back, although I didn’t see it this way, the only thing I really did was always around drugs. I would panhandle for cash, then once I had enough, I would go looking for a dealer. Rinse and repeat. Oh, and by the way, in the Canadian cities I visited, I never met a panhandler that begged exclusively to "get ahead" in life. Perhaps some would buy food with part of money they’d get, but 99% would always go to drugs or alcohol. Just remember that the next time you give your change. You’re enabling and encouraging this life style. It’s certainly what made it easier for me to live on the streets and never think twice about seeking real help, since I was getting by just fine.

Tell us how you escalated to using heroin...

When I arrived in Vancouver, it wasn’t long before I started looking for heroin, but it was more of a covert search. I knew it wasn’t something to be proud of. The majority of people I met made it clear that junkies are the lowest of the low, it’s a dangerous drug, no one actually wants to do it, you don’t go after it, you don’t ask, etc. So I didn’t because I didn’t want to risk being talked out of it and maybe prevented from doing it.

After about two weeks in Vancouver, I remember hanging out with some friends, and one guy started smoking some white powder in a disabled light bulb. I just knew this was heroin. When I was offered some, I didn’t refuse. It’s funny how the first trip wasn’t exactly pleasant. I felt like the world was spinning and I got so nauseous that I vomited less than thirty minutes after. Yet, I tried again.

While in Vancouver I was only smoking it, or "chasing the dragon.” However, I started using needles (or shooting it) when I returned to Montreal. I started with cocaine since my first hit “happened” to be free.

The truth is that I was already hanging out with junkies before I went to Vancouver. I knew I would do needles, so while I was still in Montreal I would find free needles at needle exchange places and practice taking blood out of me – just to get familiar with how to do it. I’m so grateful that I only used needles for about five months in all and was taking heroin for about nine months in total. I was messed up enough, no good would have come from a prolonged consumption, and it’s a miracle my parents found Narconon and that I was alive long enough to get there!

How did you find out about the Narconon program?

I found out about Narconon from my parents. If they hadn’t looked before this, they certainly looked for it after I was hospitalised for a heroin overdose. I was in Toronto when that happened. I was still in touch with my family while I lived on the streets. I would sometimes come home for a few days before going back to the streets. I can only imagine what my parents went through and how helpless they felt. Unfortunately, I never took them into consideration at that time. I was angry with them and felt confined to where I felt claustrophobic and had to leave.

I recall waking up in a Toronto hospital after my overdosed and seeing my parents. I remember being furious! I felt like they had no business being there, it was an invasion of my privacy, it was so embarrassing. That really prompted them to find a solution for me. After the overdose, I was really scared and never wanted to touch drugs again. Yet by the third day, I was being discharged from the hospital and my parents were taking me home, all I could think about was that I needed heroin.

For the first week or two after the overdose, I was staying at my mom’s. The only Narconon centre in Canada wasn’t yet set up at that time. I didn’t know anything about rehab really, and had no idea my parents were trying to get me to go as soon as Narconon was available to take on clients. All I did while at my mothers was think about heroin. I knew this one girl who was using and I would call her up and all we did was talk about Heroin. My life was heroin; it’s as simple as that. I was lost to it, gone, just a shell you could say. This one time I called an old friend from high school and convinced him to get money to use. I got friends like him to do it with me because I actually thought I was doing them a favor. After those 2 weeks, I ran away again, back to Toronto and my junkie lifestyle. I remember getting sick when I stopped using and thought it was just a cold or something, and didn’t even notice the symptoms disappearing or wonder why they did. I really knew nothing about drugs, just drug users and dealers "educating" drug users and dealers.

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