- by Alex McVean
It was the end of March 2020. The COVID-19 pandemic had begun in full swing, as full lockdown was in effect. I was homeless and in detox in Owen Sound. Every rehab in the province had shut down, or the wait lists were horrendously long. I would never make it. I desperately wanted to go when I’d arrived, but my chances of going from detox to rehab were zero. Because of this, recovery was no longer a concept in my life. I had no direction. Nowhere to go.
For two weeks I sat there. I was isolated from everyone else in the detox for distancing reasons. We were all isolated in our individual rooms. Homeless shelters were shut down as well, or packed full. The number of people struggling on the streets was increasing, both steadily and sharply. An air of a hopeless, dystopian future felt as it it had become reality. And it has.
I had no idea how to manage anything financially. I aquired assistance through Ontario Works which is much appreciated, but $733 a month is nothing in this day and age. Also, without housing - the rent assistance portion of that is removed which leaves only $343 a month. My prospects of finding housing and work felt slim to none.
I was trying to call YMCA housing to help me find accommodations, but there was no answer on the phone when I tried. There was no answering machine, just static noise after some rings. The whole world had shut down, backing me into the tightest corner I’d been backed into yet in my 28 years, and for all I knew there no way out.
No one in my family, or any of my friends were able to take me in. I felt like an outcast. I was alone. I’d ruined my life with meth addiction and the timing to be in this position was the worst possible. I truly thought I was going to be hitting a park bench with nothing and nowhere to go for food or shelter. I didn’t know what was going on, or what the future held. I felt hopeless.
The last few months were really hard on me. I’d spun out of control after my partner broke up with me. My on again off again addictions to meth and alcohol were too much and it was over. He absolutely had every right to break it off, I wasI did not handle that well. I take full responsibility for this. I found it hard to control my emotions when everything was falling apart. I took a mental health leave from work, and hoped to sort myself out but daily use was my muse, I’d attempted suicide on February 26, 2020 via an intentional overdose with fentanyl. Paramedics found me, and revived me with narcan and electroshock compressions. I felt so, so horribly sick when I woke up. It’s painful to die. It’s a nothingness I can’t really explain. My life was spent in absolute chaos until I arrived in detox a month later.
YMCA did eventually get a hold of me at the detox. There were a couple of false leads, and then there was a man in Hanover who would rent me a room for $350 a month. I went. It was a decent room. The bed was comfortable. I had an old CRT television with cable. I watched the COVID--19 news almost religiously for a brief time. I left it on day and night. I wouldn’t make sense of it all for a while, but it was a big deal. I was terrified of what was to become of this world.
This is what the initial outbreak was like to me. I did find a new situation which was much more positive. I found a new partner in Durham. We met a couple times, and spent some time together. We hit it off really well andiIt wasn’t long before he took me into his home. He was amazing to me. I felt secure for the first time in my entire life. It was like a dream come true. But as dreams do, they fade to neutral realities subject to all of life’s ups and downs. A nightmare is always within reach, with Its tendrils wisping into the corners of life. Waiting to grab their hold onto everything that’s good and squeeze the life out of me, hard.
Something terrible happened to me, and my habit which was already bad became far worse. It was my decision. My decisions to use are always mine regardless of circumstance. It wasn’t long before our relationship deteriorated, and by March of 2021 I was no longer living in Durham. It was my own fault.
I cannot say that this was all a failure though. During this time, I found refuge in a harm reduction forum called Bluelight.org. I even became a staff member within 5 months of regular participation as a forum moderator. I found purpose there and throughout my time there I took on more responsibilities to eventually became their social media and communications manager. This has been my entry point into becoming an activist for changing drug policy. I advocate for harm reduction, which is a school of thought which aims to “meet people where they’re at” in addictions treatment and programming. It’s the big driver behind things like the RAAM clinics (rapid access addiction medicine) and safe injection sites which have been opening up. Safe supply as well. Harm reduction has been a pillar of federal drug strategy since 2006. Bluelight has been a godsend for me. I have friends all over the world now, and I’ve found direction in what I’ve learned being there.
I’ve also joined a group called The Canadian Association of People Who Use Drugs, and through them I’ve been given opportunities for work. For example, I’ve attended a meeting where I’ve had input with Health Canada into how statistics will be conducted for addictions and overdose mortality going forward. This is all for changing drug policy. Another example, I’ve become a published writer with my first article being on uphns-hub.ca in The Drug Hub.
I’ve found myself here in the harm reduction world, and I try to apply the concept wherever I go. Meet people where they are at to help reduce the harm. Sometimes that means just listening. I try to do the best I can and stay as positive as I possibly can given the situation. It’s a rough world with a future that’s uncertain.
I want to help others through their issues as much as I can, and I’ve made it my life mission to stay involved in these projects of harm reduction and changing drug policy for the better. I have a lot of rough days still, but I maintain hope and make moves so that things will turn out for the better. Life doesn’t seem as hard if I maintain hope, and take action too.
Alex McVean is a harm reduction and drug policy activist with living experience from Owen Sound, Ontario, Canada. He is Social Media and Communications Manager for Bluelight.org and a member of The Canadian Association of People Who Use Drugs (CAPUD).
