Staying out: Glenn citizens discover, celebrate recovery
ORLAND - It's often said the majority of people who end up in jail are repeat offenders who can't stay away from drugs or alcohol.
But filling a room at the Glenn County Community Recovery Center on East South Road on a recent Thursday morning were men and women actively trying to stay out of custody, and out of the prison of addiction.
They're some of the 101 people on the winding pathway of recovery in Glenn County drug and alcohol programs, and they're succeeding.
"Recovery Happens" was the county's annual National Drug and Alcohol Recovery Month celebration, sponsored by the Glenn County Health Services Agency. The event featured refreshments, speakers, special music and personal testimonies of people working hard to stay clean and sober.
What they said was that recovery doesn't just happen - it's hard work; that sobriety doesn't mean recovery; that programs such as Narcotics Anonymous, Alcoholics Anonymous and several offered by the county do help.
Most of those who shared their experiences on the pathway to recovery revealed past - and repeated - incarceration. Their addictions were either alcohol or other drugs such as methamphetamine.
What they celebrated were recoveries ranging from a woman just beginning the journey, to a man celebrating his eighth year clean.
Celebrating these individuals were county employees and others who provide help through various programs.
Cecilia Hutsell, director of Glenn County Mental Health Services, and Jim Bettencourt, founder and chairman of Glenn County Not in Our Town, referred to the recoverers as "heroes."
Providing resources for recovery is a journey Bettencourt embarked on four years ago after the near-fatal methamphetamine overdose of his teen son.
That resource is "Not In Our Town," which has made presentations about the evils of methamphetamine to more than 4,000 school-age children and provided more than 12,000 free handouts to adults.
To those on the journey, Bettencourt said thanks "for making the choice to deal with and recover from methamphetamine addiction. You're all very much heroes ..."
To Glenn County employee Chellie Gates, the program's title, "Recovery Happens" was wrong. Recovery doesn't happen; it's hard work, she said. And while they were there to celebrate each individual's hard work through "the aches, the pains, the struggles that got you here," she reminded each of the impact of drugs on children.
Recovery is not only hard work, but those who shared their experiences revealed it's a sometimes slippery slope back to the bottom, followed by a long road back. There were cheers and applause for those brave enough to share experiences.
One man, on recovery through Proposition 36, had been sober and attending Alcoholics Anonymous for five years when he said he decided to drink again, and use drugs. He said he wound up in jail and only then thought of his wife and children, who didn't know he used drugs.
His showdown with drinking and drug use came 20 minutes after he got home from jail, where one of his children looked up at him and said, "Daddy, you disappoint me."
The experience made him feel cold all over, and it was then when he decided to get back on recovery's path, he said. He's been clean almost nine months and has a good job.
Another testimony came from lanky, gray-haired Larry Beck. Beck didn't pull punches.
He began using drugs at age 14, he said. By the time he was 19, Beck had been in and out of prison and was addicted to heroin.
"I always thought I was going to have a needle stuck in my arm and stay in a prison cell the rest of my life - till I got into NA," Beck testified.
Today, Beck no longer considers cops his enemy because he isn't breaking the law. Recovery took a lot of hard work, he said. Clean since March 1995, Beck said he's been involved in Narcotics Anonymous, especially getting NA into lockdown facilities.
"If it wasn't for NA, I would not be here today," Beck said, adding, "It's been a lot of work and I continue to work on it daily."
During the program, a woman went out to a patio for a smoking break. New to recovery, Misty Ann Lawrence was recently released from Glenn County Jail.
Lawrence told the Enterprise-Record a month earlier about what it's like in jail, about how she was high on meth at her arrest, and how she hopes to stay out. She admits she slipped shortly after her release and ended up back inside the jail for a few hours.
Now, Lawrence attends drug and alcohol programs Mondays and Wednesdays and attends meetings at night whenever she can. She also gets drug tested regularly, which she said helps keep her clean.
Also outside, away from the balloons and celebration, was Diana Daniels. She, too, is in recovery.
Daniels is also one of those who has been in jail multiple times. She said the first two times were for domestic violence against her husband. The other two times were for violation of probation, for dirty drug tests.
In her opinion, it's impossible to quit methamphetamine without help.
"Once you're hooked on meth, it's so hard to stop," she said.
Daniels said she's the first to admit she has relapsed. At one point she was using drugs for about seven months before quitting.
"I finally realized I was on my death bed," she said. She suffered constant nosebleeds, was tired all the time and went from 120 pounds to 89 pounds in a month, she said. "I was killing myself."
The last relapse was on prescription drugs, but she's back on recovery's pathway, eight months clean.
To stay clean, Daniels attends a drug and alcohol program at the Community Recovery Center twice a week and individual help every other week.
Daniels is blunt about the importance of programs.
"If this program wasn't here, I'd be dirty today," she said.
A key to staying clean is calling people for help, attending meetings such as NA, and listening, Daniels told Lawrence.
"The more you keep your ears open, the more you learn."
Still thin and pale, Daniels said recovery is happening - slowly - but she still has a long road ahead of her.
"It's day by day," she said. "I wake up every day praying I have a good day clean, or even a bad day clean, as long as I'm clean. Day by day."
Back inside, 41-year-old Glenda Jiminez listened intently for a number to be called for a prize windmill. When her number was called, she whooped with delight. During much of the program, her voice rang out with excitement.
Jiminez is also new to recovery, only five months along. She spent 20 years of her life behind bars, through the revolving door of the prison system, and has used every drug you can think of, she said.
Jiminez said she didn't know she could get help until recently. "I didn't know that I was capable of completing the things I've completed in the five months I've been here," she said.
Before getting into a county recovery program, she was on the verge of going back to prison. Now, she's getting off of parole after 13 years. Jiminez described the hard work involved in recovery.
"You have to dig deep down inside and make a lot of choices," she said. "You've gotta want it in order to achieve it. Now I know how to make choices, and think about the consequences. Before, I didn't care."
Thanks to her counselor, the short-haired, thin woman said she's grown so much in the program and she has learned to love herself. She urged people to reach out and get recovery.
"You gotta want it to get it," she repeated. "Unless you're willing, nobody can help you."
Jiminez cried, tears spilling down cheeks that were also smiling.
"It's a good feeling," she said. "A good feeling."
<< Home