Addiction--What's Really Going on?

Inside a Heroin Treatment Program

Deborah McCloskey, Barbara Sinor

• Publisher: Loving Healing Press
• Year: 2009
• Print ISBN: 9781932690934
• eBook ISBN: 9781615999064
• Topic: Medicine
• Subtopic: Neurology

Addiction: What's Really Going On? contains powerful true-life stories woven together to form a tapestry filled with pain, joy, defeat, and success. The entire book is molded around Deborah McCloskey's heartfelt desire for her clients to be free of drugs. Her counseling methods both endeared her as "the counselor to get" and locked her into a decade of searching for better ways to help those she felt were stuck on the merry-go-round of a methadone system. This book should be read by teachers, hospitals employees, college students, government officials, and our general adult population whether addicted, sober, or straight.

Experts Acclaim for Addiction--What's Really Going On?

"Once I started reading Addiction--What's Really Going On? I could not put it down! You can tell the passion the author has as you read it. I can also tell how she learned about methadone and the patients as she progressed in her work."
--Roxanne Baker, CMA, President National Alliance of Methadone Advocates (NAMA)

"Addiction--What's Really Going On? is gritty and gripping as you enter the lives of those who are like crabs trying to get out of a barrel. Hope comes when you realize that there are people in this world committed to unselfish service who have unconditional love for others. Thank you Deborah and Barbara for showing us your humanity and for what we can aspire to."
--Anusha Amen-Ra, CNC, CEO, Sacred Space Healing and Retreat Centers International, Inc.

"Addiction--What's Really Going On? is a truthful look into the world of Methadone Treatment with a mix of compassion and humor. It is a great read for those in the recovery field and provides insight for those who do not understand the life of addiction and recovery."
--Lori Carter-Runyon, Executive Director Hilltop Recovery Services

"I recommend this book to audiences in any helping profession, people in recovery, the families of drug addicts, and the users themselves."
--Bill Urell, MA, CAAP-II, Addictions Therapist Author, The Addiction Recovery Help Guide

About the Author

Barbara Sinor, PhD is a Psychospiritual Therapist working with individuals dealing with addictions, childhood abuse/incest, PTSD, and adult children of alcoholics. Barbara utilizes a holistic methodology in her counseling encompassing forms of hypnotherapy, regression therapy, Gestalt, Jungian dreamwork, and other transpersonal techniques. Dr. Sinor holds a Doctorate in Psychology; an MA from John F. Kennedy University; and a BA from Pitzer College.

Psychology : Psychopathology - Addiction

1

Getting to Know the System

I do not think I truly understood the field of addiction until I had worked at the clinic for about six months. My parents, God bless them, were both alcoholics. I knew my clients did not exaggerate. I remember when I was sitting with my Father holding his hand in that damn hospital while he went through the DTs. I witnessed the various ways the patients were treated. Is it genetics? Is it social? Is it the foundation that you have or do not have? Is it the support systems? People in hospitals talk, always trying to discover why a person is addicted; the one my Father was in was no exception.

Dad never went to one AA meeting after his detox at that hospital, and he never drank again. He knew if he did, he would die. How could he just quit? He said, “Willpower.” He was a regular guy, no special seminars, no Antabuse; he just used his mind-over-matter philosophy.

After my Father died and later with my first marriage, we tossed around the new diagnosis of “Adult Children of Alcoholics.” My husband who was a workaholic, said our problems were all my fault because of my childhood with both parents being alcoholics. He found his excuse to not take responsibility within our marriage and rode it as a true victim. Our marriage was always in trouble. My husband was out of town five days each week. He once went to a therapist who also wanted to see me. The therapist's first comment was, “I understand you come from an alcoholic family.” Was I the problem? Was my childhood destroying our marriage?

My cousin discovered 12 Step meetings and went to all of them. Did they help, or did she just find an easy way to make friends and fill her day while getting validation? I guess my family history urged me into school to study addiction and recovery. In the education program I attended, only two others claimed to not be an alcoholic or addict. The educational program I attended was located in southern California where I lived, it was a new program and we were the first class. The professor taught us all the basic psychological premises of alcoholism and addiction. He thought it was a choice to drink or use drugs and a choice to stop. “All in the power of the mind,” he told us, “and a choice based on what options are available to the person.” He had originally studied with Timothy Leary, or so he said.

The professor explained addiction as a temporary cure-all, “Any addiction starts as a fun escape, then goes to just an escape, and ends-up as a way of life. Boredom, guilt, regret, no sense of purpose, and most of all no self-love are the triggers for addiction.” Also, he told us, “One needs to do something loveable to develop self-love.” With these guideposts, we left school determined to help those with addictions find their self-love and move away from their unproductive and self-destructive lives. We had no idea what we were getting ourselves into! Thus, my life in treatment centers for substance abuse began…

~ ~ ~

“Oh, hi Todd,” I answered the phone. “How are you? Still at that clinic? God, how do you handle the hours?”

Todd asked if I wanted to try a new job opening at the southern California clinic.

“Funny you should ask; I am looking at a stack of bills. My account balance says that is all I can do, just look at them. I haven't paid the rent on my Holistic Center for last month yet! I am going to close it soon. I guess running an alternative center just isn't my destiny.”

He told me to drop by and meet the boss.

“Well, I don't have a current résumé, but okay, tomorrow at 10:00AM. Thanks, I'll see you tomorrow then,” I told him.

It looked just as he said, a very plain two-story building completely unmarked, including the missing address. The windows were tinted and I would have missed it completely had it not been for the accurate description of nothingness and Todd's car out front.

“Glad you found the place,” Todd said. “Come on in, let me introduce you to Javier. Allie, this is Javier, the Clinic Director.”

“Hey Todd, can you give her an application? I'll be back later. Hey Allie, can you come back tomorrow?” Javier asked. “Ah, just call me tomorrow about this time.”

“Sure,” I said but silently thought so glad I stayed up all night doing my résumé, spending fifty dollars that I didn't have on a manicure, copying all my certificates that validate I am worthy of your attention; oh, and thanks for leaving because I am a nervous wreck! I stuck out my hand to shake, “Glad to meet you too, Javier. Todd has told me all about you.”

“Wish I could spend more time with you now Allie, and yes, it is always this crazy. I will talk to you tomorrow. Todd, just leave her application and résumé on my desk. Thanks.” And with that he was gone.

I spent the next three days playing telephone tag with this man. Todd told me it was a “sure thing.” Sure enough, when I finally connected with Javier again, he simply told me to show up for work on Wednesday at 5:30AM.

I was strangely nervous. I could never have expected traffic jams at 4:30AM. The freeway was stopped and I did not know of an alternative route. My first day and I was late. It would take a lot of changes to get up at 3:30AM every morning. At least I knew someone who worked there, so I was not a total stranger. I wondered just what I would do there. It was July so the sun was just starting to rise and it was now 5:46AM. I could not believe that there was nowhere to park and I wondered why Todd had said, “Whatever you do, do not park in the parking lot.”

I had lived just a few miles from the clinic several years before. In fact, I had shopped weekly at a nearby discount store. I had no idea that there was this type of clinic here, far less, heroin addicts inside. The building was a very plain two-story office building, close to several popular fast-food chains and a convenience store, right in the middle of a residential neighborhood. As I walked in the door a thick, sweet candy-like smell overwhelmed me. I struggled to place the scent, then it came to me. Once during class, my professor had said that methadone smelled like cotton candy; this smell was identical to his description.

The place was very active. People stood in line, most wearing sunglasses and all in various stages of dress with a variety of expressions on their faces. Most were checking me out in detail amid whispers of “that must be the new one,” and a few cat-calls. Most just looked at me and pointed in unison to a space behind them in line. Everyone faced a set of windows, card in hand, urgently waiting their turn. I went to the counter that they were pointing to when I heard, “Are you private pay or MediCal?” The woman in the enclosed office did not bother to look up.

I said, “I am Allie. I am supposed to start working here today.”

“How would I know that?” she said with an attitude. “Well, the Director is not here so I don't know what they want to do with you.”

From behind me I hear, “Move it, bitch! I got things to do today.”

I turned to face the dirtiest woman that I had ever seen standing behind me. Most of her teeth were missing. Bright-red lipstick covered half her face, not just her lips. Her smeared eye makeup and unkempt hair looked as if it had been untouched for weeks. Her T-shirt was stained with various colors and apparently various substances. It was obvious she wore no bra and the spandex shorts may have been yellow once. Her legs had sores like swollen red-hot eggs and small scars that looked like cigarette burns all over, not to mention a couple of tattoo names on her neck, hands, and ankles. She wore very worn-out slip-on slippers, dirty purple. In fact, as my eyes remained at floor level, I saw most of them were wearing slippers! It was difficult not to stare.

She paid no attention to my paralyzed gaze and wide gaping mouth as she said to the lady on the other side of the window, “Give me my card.” Then she walked away quickly to get her place in the line.

I was told to go upstairs to see a Todd, “Black Todd” they called him. Inside, there were two large staircases. The front of the building was crowded with people smoking and talking. Scanning the place, I realized there were children in the cars and more children outside tugging at their parents asking to leave. A sharp-dressed man directing traffic noticed my paralysis and asked, “Can I help you?”

I said that I was Allie, today was my first day, and I was to go upstairs to see a Todd.

“White Todd or Black Todd?” he asked. He pointed me in the right direction and added, “Oh no, gotta go. I'm Moses, glad to meet you.” He turned to go outside, I watched him try to prevent one car from hitting another.

I started to walk up the stairs and my hand automatically went to reach for the guardrail when a voice from behind me instructed, “I wouldn't touch that if I were you, and watch your step.”

I immediately removed my hand and looked up the stairs. I saw fast-food containers, beer cans, two cockroaches eating leftover nachos, and smelled an overwhelming stench of urine. The words “Oh my God,” flew out of my mouth followed by, “A condom?”

“Get used to it. Hey, my name is Jack. Are you the new counselor?”

“Yes,” I responded as I pushed my way into the door to get away from the smell. “I am looking for Todd.”

“Black Todd or White Todd?” Jack asked.

Just then a man running down the hall said, “You Allie?”

“Yes.”

“Did you bring any food with you?”

“No.”

“Too bad, I'm hungry.” I found out later that he was always hungry. He then said, “Your office is at the end of the hall, your charts are there, you can start reading them. Then you will spend some time with each counselor for their suggestions. See you already met Jack. By the way, I'm Black Todd.”

I swear the only thoughts running through my mind were how can anyone be hungry at this hour especially with these smells? and what am I doing here?

“Glad to meet you,” I said noticing that he never stopped moving down the hall as he continued talking.

The walls between the offices were paper thin; everyone had his or her door closed. My office was next to an outside exit and I had a beautiful view from my window. I guess you could call it beautiful, a Jacaranda tree with purple blossoms. Looking out the window, I could see most of the parking lot and swarms of people crossing the street coming to and leaving the clinic. This office location, I later learned, was a vantage for me.

I opened a chart but was stuck gazing out the window curiously watching all the people. I had never seen anything like this before in my life. It was like watching a movie, a cross between Halloween and Night of the Living Dead, only it was real life! Just then Todd (Black Todd) stopped at the door and announced lunch is in half an hour, and I would have time to go and introduce myself to Angie. Where did the time go? I wondered.

I walked down the hall and knocked on the door. This beautiful girl in her mid-twenties said in an angelic voice, “Yes, come in.” Her office was like an oasis in the middle of hell with fresh paint and beautiful live plants. Renoir prints adorned the walls beside framed positive affirmations. Her hair and makeup were perfect. Her desk had closed charts mixed-in with a half-eaten bag of popcorn and a diet soda.

She looked up and said, “You must be the new counselor. I am Angie. How did you end up here?” She asked this question like my life had just taken a very dark direction. She picked-up a can of disinfectant spray and sprayed the room. Then she took an alcohol swab and cleaned her phone explaining that a client had just left her office. “Oh well, you'll get used to it,” she said with a smile.

I started asking her questions, “How did you get here? How long have you worked here?” I looked out the window telling myself Allie, you really need this job!

Angie began a rant about the clients, not really a rant but a description with a tonality that emphasized her disgust with what the counselors had to handle at the clinic.

“You know most of them smell and most of the women have five to seven children in Foster Care and they are still prostituting. Oh, make sure you see Susie and get a lot of condoms, it is the least we can do. They are all on and off the system, you know, Welfare and Social Security. We have mothers and daughters on the program. In fact, I think we have one grandfather, father and grandson on the program! Three generations… well, the family that plays together as they say. Forgive me if I sound burned-out; my last client just told me she is pregnant, six months she says. How can women go around being pregnant and not know it, use drugs, and act like ‘what's the big deal?’ Now I have all this extra paperwork to do. Anyhow, it is lunch and I am starved. Do you want to go with me?”

“No, that's okay. I have errands to do,” I lied. The truth? I was trying not to throw-up and to decide whether I really did need this job!

I went to my car and as I started to drive, I almost got hit by a client leaving the parking lot. People were everywhere. Later, I found out they were waiting for the next bus or waiting for the clinic to reopen.

My mind was racing. Is this what I went to school for? Well, these are not bad people just sick people trying to get help, addiction is addiction. You only have to do this until the real estate market gets better. You can do this, it is only for a little while. How long has it been since you had a steady paycheck and benefits? Besides, you'll get off at 1:30PM You'll have the whole rest of the day! And you have bills to pay! I returned to the clinic after lunch.

~ ~ ~

The doors to the clinic closed promptly at 10:00AM and opened again at 11:00AM. People who arrived late just waited in their car or stood in line outside the door for the hour if Moses was not there. The crowd in the afternoon did not compare to the morning crowd. The clinic was only open until 12:30PM because most clients needed to come in early before work so there was no need to stay open any later. Then the counselors had one hour to finish their chart work, doctor orders, or attend a meeting if scheduled. Then they could leave.

It appeared simple enough; one counselor had forty to f...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Praise for Addiction—What's Really Going On?
• Other Books by Barbara Sinor, PhD
• Contents
• Dedication
• Foreword
• Introduction
• Chapter 1 – Getting to Know the System
• Chapter 2 – Getting to Know the Clients
• Chapter 3 – Initiation Day
• Chapter 4 – Methadone: Pros and Cons
• Chapter 5 – The Rules
• Chapter 6 – Supporting Eleanor
• Chapter 7 – Gays, Needles, and HIV
• Chapter 8 – Linda’s Attempt to Change the System
• Chapter 9 – Conflicts Within the System
• Chapter 10 – Killing Time
• Chapter 11 – Rays of Hope
• Chapter 12 – Sometimes Compassion Works
• Chapter 13 – Sweet Success
• Chapter 14 – Struggling with Karen and Myself
• Chapter 15 – Helping Ozzie Nelson
• Chapter 16 – Meditate versus Sedate
• Chapter 17 – Dope Never Lies
• Chapter 18 – Learning to Expect More
• Chapter 19 – Too Close to Home
• Chapter 20 – A Search for Freedom
• Chapter 21 – Questioning Our View
• Epilogue
• Resources
• About the Author
• Bibliography
• Index
• Back Page