My name is Jason. I am a 27 yr old Cosmetologist and a thrice convicted felon with 2 prison sentences under his belt. Every one of my crimes was motivated by my addiction to Crystal. I am proud to say today that I have not used since January 2004 and this is my story of recovery.

To illustrate the severity of my addiction I will share briefly about the last 2 using binges. This is the second to last. It is March 2003. I've been home from Colorado State Prison for about 5 months and already am I in the thralls of my old behaviors, you see for many years I was an Identity Thief. I made a life of crime to support my Crystal use.

Having had very little sleep over the last month I had been reckless in my auto maintenance and was pulled over for having a headlight out. My passenger, also my partner at the time, had a warrant and subsequently was arrested, incident to his arrest I was searched and much evidence to my crimes was found. Yet again I find myself taken into custody. Does it ever end? Thankfully enough for me, yes, this would be my last arrest/incarceration. Sure it ended almost 2 yrs later after a tour of the west coast courtesy of the Federal Bureau of Prison. It was in the B.O.P. that I would find recovery, Of course after one more binge in custody.

I bring this to light only because I wish to impress upon you how much of a slave to my addiction I was, even after almost a year in prison I ran across Crystal and without skipping a heartbeat welcomed the opportunity to be loaded. Was I mad? No just an addict without a solution. I am so grateful for the solution that was so freely given to me by an aunt that knew all to well the power of addiction.

It was November 2004, my first real visitor in FCI Lompoc. My mother's sister who was on her 8th year of sobriety came to see me and gave me hope. She continued to visit me every six weeks or so and even drove me home to Seattle on my release date. Through her kindness and support I was able to find a place to live upon my return as well as throw myself in to my recovery. There was a time in my path of recovery that I was completely sober, two and a half years worth. I must say that that time is crucial to my recovery today. For without that time of clarity and self-exploration I would not be free from Crystal today.

When I arrived in Seattle March of 2005, I immediately set to work going to meetings, outpatient treatment and therapy. I went to every kind of meeting until I found ones that I could feel comfortable. At first, I sat in the corner just being present not even really listening just sitting until one day something shifted. I can't even remember what exactly was said that night, it did however move me enough to pay attention, and I found someone to help me through my program. That is when I discovered that it was not only about me anymore and that if I was to survive I was to help those around me to the best of my abilities. But first I had some work to do.

I chose the program of AA to get the foundation of my recovery set in place. Through the guidance of the people in this program I was able to see how I am just a part of a bigger play called life. My role in this play was to give as much as I have to give in order to receive all that I was longing for during my criminal days. As an Identity Thief I became other people and took from them in order to fulfill a longing that was so easily satisfied when I began to give of myself. I will explain soon.

I took a good six months to get to an understanding of myself. I had an awesome sponsor that wasn't a hard ass nor was he a push over. He was merely honest about himself and what he had to offer. He spoke the truth as he saw it and never claimed to know everything. Even now that I occasionally drink he still shares with me his wisdom and experience. I learned so much in those six months. More importantly I learned that I am not the only one that has these same obstacles nor do I ever have to surmount them alone.

The real growth began when I became a sponsor and shared my experience and hope with my peers. When I was able to see myself in the newcomer I knew that as long as I continued the work I would never have to be there again. Soon I was to leave the program, not however, before I became a peer facilitator for SOS. The most beautiful part of my recovery is that it is in a constant state of evolution.

Being a Facilitator in this program has maintained the foundation that was laid by AA. Here I get to listen to men that continue to face the same issues that I faced at the beginning. Also it has given me a place to find new ways the hurdles that confront all of us on the road of recovery.

I have much more to share and so little space here. Feel free to contact me with questions on recovery, my story or if you just want to chat with someone that might have been where you are today. Thanks for reading my story and I hope to meet you along the journey.

As I sit in my truck and look in the rearview mirror, I catch a glimpse of someone new. Who is this person?

I look the same, but something is different about me today and I can't quite put my finger on it. I shake it off for nerves and attempt to give myself one of my rousing pep talks. I wish I had slept better last night. Maybe if I had gone to bed earlier, I wouldn't be so jittery. I shouldn't have smoked that last cigarette. I smell as if I just stepped out of a bar.

You can do it! You've been on other interviews, Jim, come on, pull yourself together. Words almost seem futile as I take another look into my beaten blue eyes and hastily review the last year of my life. How did I end up here? Why wasn't I more prepared for my life? What must my family think? Why did I do that drug in the first place? The answer is hidden in my eyes; I just can't see it yet. Surely I'm better than this place. I look at my watch. It's 9:20am and mom always clucked, "You should always show up 10 minutes early if you want to make a good first impression." I better get moving. It's funny how my mom's voice still echoes through my head. I wonder if she would be proud of me right now. As I roll out of my truck, I peek at my reflection in the window. I throw together a quick smirk in a feeble attempt to soothe my anxiety. I think I'm what they're looking for.

As I look ahead I struggle to take confident steps up to the brown and turquoise structure. She's a rundown 60s hotel that has not weathered well with time, the type of place most folks would avoid or might rent by the hour. The marquee, broken and lonely, stands with only the roaring traffic of Aurora Avenue to keep her company. As I survey the grounds I try to picture myself as a part of this mysterious community. I could park my truck at the end of the tree shaded parking lot just in case I need a quick getaway. I want to getaway now.

As I approach the front door, I begin rehearsing possible interview questions in my head. Tell me a little about yourself. What is your five-year plan? What do you want to be when you grow up? When will you finally grow up? Why should we pick you over the other candidates? Why are you here? What kind of questions will they ask me anyway? Fuck, I've never been on this kind of interview.

The sign cluttered door is before me. I read the handwritten signs: "No drugs or alcohol allowed on the premises." "Ring the bell" with a large green arrow pointing to a faded door bell. I ring the bell and the door doesn't open. Puzzled, I look into the window and a hot-tempered woman is waving her arms like a flagger on a highway construction crew. Where is her orange vest? She is motioning for me to pull the door open. It makes me wonder if several others forgot to pull the door after ringing the bell. Maybe they should put up a better sign. The air is musky and heavy like a Nebraskan summer. The lobby smells of bleach and cheap laundry detergent, the kind that comes in a small rectangular box with a name like Brite-o-riffic. The energy feels tense, just like at home when our dinner guests arrive early and mom is still cleaning the house. The walls are a fleshy pink with scuff marks and maroon trim. I think this place needs a new decorator. Maybe I can give them some tips on new colors. Maybe yellow. Yellow is a much happier color. I introduce myself to the front desk attendant who curtly tells me to write my name on the sign in sheet. I wait in the lobby and see several folks pass through. I don't want to look anyone in the eye; they might see the answer.

A few moments pass and a stout man in his twenties rushes up to me and barks, "If you are here for screening, follow me". I follow and try to study his lead. It is obvious small talk would be inappropriate. I wonder why he is so unfriendly? He reminds me of a childhood bully with his chest puffed out and gruff tone. Is this what I am like? Surely I'm better than this. I want to get away now. He leads us to an elevator and presses the 4th floor button 10 times as if the elevator needed a little extra coaxing. The inside of the elevator was wallpapered with notices, people's names and terms like punitive hours, don't be late for screening, and don't eat poppy seeds or you will fail your drug test. Am I in a foreign country? What does all of this mean, and how do I paint this into my picture? I don't understand anything around me.

The bully looks me over and gives me his best, yet somewhat canned, speech. "You'll like it here, the people are cool and they feed us a lot" as he slaps his belly. Suddenly I've lost my appetite. He leads me into a waiting room of sorts. The air is thick with cigarette smoke and body odor. I sit down on a soiled couch with broken springs and start filling out my application. Several faceless people are smoking and a hardy woman named Roseanne asks me if I need anything. Her mischievous half smile in some weird way comforts me. Her eyes are vacant and puffy as if she hasn't slept in days. As I peer into her abandoned eyes, I think I can see the answer. Has her spirit been broken? I wonder if I will soon be like her. Am I like her? I am better than this place and I don't belong here. I excuse myself and ask for the rest room. I gaze into the mirror and take a deep breath. What am I doing here? I am better than this place. I don't belong here. I'm still looking for an answer, I just don't know where to look.

It appears as if I am the first interview of the day and I start to get nervous again. While reviewing my exhausted game plan, my palms drip with anticipation. The moment has arrived as my name is called. I am led across the hall in to a board room. It looks like a board room, however, the players don't seem to fit. Without smiling, a young American Indian woman introduces herself as Liz. Everyone's eyes are on me. They each have the look of 'here we go again' and 'wish we were someplace else'. I sit at a chair in the middle of the room like a criminal about to under-go an interrogation.

Liz is all business and to the point. "This program is designed to help homeless people get back into permanent housing and back on their feet." After rustling some papers, Liz asks me if I am homeless. I pause and grapple with that word trying to digest its true meaning. I shudder at the thought of this admission. I am 34 years old. I used to be somebody. I had a real life and a good job. I've lost more than a place to live and my material possessions. I've lost my dignity and sense of self. Part of me wants to lie and say I'm not homeless while grasping for another less humbling option. I want to turn back time and change all my actions leading up to this stinking interview. Maybe I'm not ready for this type of honesty. It would be so easy to go back out, use crystal meth, and slip back into the fantasy life of false confidence.

My dealer would take me in.

Wait! I remember my reflection in the mirror and I shift, something is different today. Today is not about easy. Today is about change and starting over. Today I don't want to live a lie. Maybe I do belong here. I could be like everyone else here. I don't want to get away anymore.

I can see a reflection of me in Liz's eyes. She looks into my eyes and I know she can see my answer. With a sigh of relief and swallowed pride, I answer...

Yes, I am homeless.

Jim has been off crystal since January 2004 and is no longer homeless. Recovery from his meth addiction has given him the power to live his life to the fullest. Since entering recovery, Jim is carefully putting his life back together, reconnecting with old friends, making new friends and will be finished with nursing school sometime in the near future.

"REDEMPTION" My recovery's leitmotif -- in my personal life, my relationships and my career.

When I left San Francisco for Seattle in early 2006, after four difficult and tumultuous years of the 24/7 party that is Gay San Francisco, I had reached a point where I lost touch with my ideals in life, love and work. Though I had been lucid enough to have asked for help and to have planned my escape from San Francisco, I hadn't a clue how I'd find my way, once more, and regain my sense of self and of respectability.

Seventeen Months Later.
Six-months of short term disability benefits. Daily workouts, bike rides, dog walks and sleeping in. Sobriety. Support groups. New friends. Old friends. Meditation. Therapy -- desperately needed. Two 550+ mile California AIDSrides. A new bike. Mom's cooking. More therapy. Recovery groups. SOS. Seattle Counseling. Greeting the skeletons in my closet. Five weeks of job hunting. One interview. IRS, who? Welcome to the Seattle City Council. R'approachement.

My journey through recovery and rediscovery, though only 17 months old, has borne more fruit than I had ever hoped for in so short a time period -- particularly since I've been working for less than 12 months. In these short 17 months, which seem a blip in time, I've re-established my career in public service, been appointed a member of a public policy planning body, resolved six years of tax issues, learned to better love and trust myself and learned to cry and to feel my emotions.

Perhaps most importantly, I've engaged in humble, though confident, self-examination to address my own shortcomings, to apologize to those I had hurt or neglected during my partying years, to make good on my financial and other commitments and to finally confront the incest/guilt/shame issues I had been avoiding for over twenty years.

No part of this journey -- neither the peaks nor the valleys -- has been easy. None have come naturally. None have come without internal conflict, trepidation or fear.

Without the baggage of crystal use, however, the journey has been more balanced and steady. I've seen things more clearly and I've approached these challenges (and my demons) with a greater sense of courage and urgency. As I progress through my journey, its path has shifted and progressed more organically, more naturally than my "Type A" personality would have liked. The path, though, feels more real, more normal and becomes more enjoyable by the day.

17 months after changing every aspect of my life -- friends, drug habits, drinking habits, city, state, job -- I'm in disbelief at the magnitude of my life's improvement. Sex is better. Sleep is better. Relationships are better. My closest, oldest friends have welcomed me back into the fold of love, care and friendship. I love my job, again. I'm healthier (and thinner!) than I've ever been. No more pasty, sunken cheeks. Melanin. Self-care.

Narcissism, once more. :)

When I was a kid, I never said I wanted to grow up to be a drug addict. Yea, it just is not that simple.

I came from what appeared to be a normal family. I lived on a farm in Western Washington, I had a sheep as a pet, I have brothers and sisters, and all was good. My parents divorced early, my mother was left to raise five kids while my father traveled the world playing golf.

I moved from Washington to Southern California the day before Mt. St. Helens erupted; culture shock for real. I began having to compete for friends, defend myself from bullies, and all in all I was taught to isolate at the age of 11 because I was told I was different. WRONG! I didn't find out that I wasn't different for a very long time. In the meantime, I isolated with those who also were being made to feel different. This is who I first got loaded with.

It started with cigs at 12, pot at 13, coke at 16, and then meth at 24. Sure there were opportunities for other drugs like alcohol, LSD, XTC, etc., but primarily my addiction focused on crack cocaine from the age of 16 to the age of 24 then I swapped crack for meth at the age of 24. Don't get me wrong, I did have a reprieve for a few months, but really, from the time I was 16 until I was 32 I may have been attempting sobriety, but never had a support group and continued to make friends, these friends did drugs, and I constantly moved from state to state, from city to city, and always it followed me.

When I was 24 my life changed. I made some friends in Seattle that were gay and I found I could finally come out to them. I trusted them and shortly thereafter found out they did meth. We called it Tina then, but really, whatever you call it, it's just plain evil. I didn't care. I wanted to be accepted. I finally was able to be myself with my new life and I figured since it wasn't crack I was doing then it was ok. I managed to excel at work, I bought my own home. I got into a relationship and began partying a lot. This is where it began to go down hill for me.

For the next seven years I went from being a plumber to a drug dealer. I lost my job due to missing too many days. I started my own business as a general contractor and was semi-successful for about a year. I began to get behind on my bills and turned to gambling. This was not an effective strategy to pay my bills. I put my home on the market in December 1999. It sat on the market and went no where. The internet boom crashed in Seattle and so did the economy. In fear of losing my home I turned to fraud. About a year later, I lost my home and was on the street. I had everything I owned stolen from me by those who I thought I could trust. What I found out was that if meth was involved, no one can be trusted.

Give me about a year and I ended up in jail. I was looking at spending three years in Federal Prison and it scared the shit out of me. I was sitting in jail on my 32 birthday and had a spiritual experience. I realized that if I were ever to be respected and responsible then I needed to pull my head out of my ass. I was let out of jail pending trial to the custody of my father. I started all over with nothing. Again!

I went to treatment courtesy of the Federal Court. I learned addiction was a disease and this made perfect sense to me. I had no idea. I became involved in AA and made many friends. Some of these friends I made decided we needed a program tailored to our addiction; meth. So we collaborated and started the first Crystal Meth Anonymous meeting of King County, knowing there were some who needed a different program, we laid down the foundations of Strength Over Speed.

Realizing now that I am 6 months sober, I decided to go back to school. I entered into a Paralegal program on-line and got a job with a friend who owned a law firm. I focused on helping others and making a life for myself. The court recognized this and decided to sentence me to probation. As a condition of probation I had to do 10 months on electronic home monitoring. I moved into an Oxford House made more friends in recovery. I lived there for the next year.

I realized as I was about to graduate with my AA Degree that I wanted to go to law school. I realized early in sobriety that if I put my mind to it I could accomplish anything. I learned that I am only as sick as the secrets I keep. I have found an incredible amount of freedom and liberation from my past by being completely honest about my life. As a result, my aspirations for my future and hopes and dreams of being successful at doing something I love are often talked about with all those who I am engaged by. I was encouraged to apply to UW and Seattle University. With a lot of doubt, but hopes that I could be given another chance I applied. I was accepted to Seattle University to pursue my BS in Criminal Justice.

I am now in my second year at SU and have just been elected as the Vice President (Co-Chair) of the Student Executive Council. This is tremendous. I first found my seat on this council by being appointed as the Criminal Justice Student body representative by the head of the Criminal Justice program. While on the council the Dean asked me to run for a leadership position and wa-la, here I am about to start the 2007-2008 school year as a leader, but more important a motivator.

I can not express how the respect I have received from others makes me feel today. If I had not been honest about the challenges I have faced then those around me would not be in a position to support me in my efforts to change my life. As I have been honest about my past, there have been many who have stepped up to give me a chance. This, by far, is the greatest lesson I learned in recovery. BE COMPLETELY HONEST! I am not saying this will work for all, but really, having nothing to hide from allows me to only succeed at everything I do. The proof is in my history. I am on my way to law school; I will be applying in a year to SU and UW. Provided I get accepted and am allowed to practice, I want to be in a position to afford others who are in similar situations as I once was to be given a chance and an opportunity to turn their lives around. I have never before felt like I am exactly where I am supposed to be as I am today. What an amazing feeling. I owe it to be honest, true to my self, diligent in my recovery, making healthy relationships with solid people and set goals that are within reach. With this, my hopes are high and my dreams are coming true.

"MY RECOVERY IS NOT A PASSIVE SPORT" As I move beyond the Me decade and into the future there are a few things I pay attention to.

It's true; My Crystal use was all about me. Looking back I now see all of the energy I put into accessing that drug and everything that went with it. It allowed me to connect with men on a much more intimate level than I was used to. The reality was that the drug had taken over my life and I wanted my life back.

To refocus that energy towards something worthwhile has been a struggle. It hasn't been easy. But with fortitude I believe I can accomplish and excel in anything I choose to. It's understanding my limitations and not setting myself up for those high expectations and quick rewards. For when I do that, I refer back to my old pattern of thought and behaviors. My key issues always and for the most part have been the way I see myself and the way I think others see me. The truth is I only have control over my own thoughts, not others. Moving beyond those old thought patterns has taken time and courage, but having the commitment to gain my self-respect and dignity back has come with many rewards.

Trusting in myself again to do the right thing in all interactions with people or situations, whenever they may arise, will help me to regain some of what I had lost. I have to remember to Stop and Think before I Speak and pay special attention to my feelings and emotions. My emotions were raw and volatile in the beginning, but with patience and support I continue to believe that I can see myself in new ways and be prepared to experience new things.

In early recovery I perceived myself as the victim of my own circumstances. It was everybody else's fault not my own. To admit that my friends, my employer, my family and my then partner were the actual victims was tough. It was me who had brought the pain into their lives. Letting go of that and reclaiming their trust and support was crucial.

To move beyond that and look at the reasons why I was using was the first step. I did this with the help of a chemical dependency counselor and others. For I believe to stay committed to my recovery it takes more than just trained professionals it takes friends, family, community and above all myself. Because if I didn't believe in myself I wouldn't be where I am today and I would not have the opportunities my recovery has given me.

Tony Radovich, of Seattle, is a peer facilitator for Strength Over Speed and community activist who advocates for those living with HIV/AIDS and Substance abuse issues.