No 'one-size-fits-all' fix for drug users
By Aysha Pabani
apabani2@uwo.ca
Janine takes a drag of her cigarette as she
places her blue mug down on the coffee table to answer the door.
"You never know who it's going to be these days," she
says, heading towards the entrance of her apartment.
After a few short minutes in the doorway, she walks past Cutie,
her furry grey and white cat who's busy feasting away under the
kitchen table, and returns to her spot on the sofa.
"All it takes is one person to pass on gossip," she
says, taking a sip of her tea. "I just say, 'I don't know
what you're talking about,' and send them on their way."
Janine is a drug user.
"Drug users congregate," says Jim Watkin, seated in
the chair beside her. "They hear and then come to the door
— it makes it difficult to have any privacy and take care
of yourself."
Watkin is a representative for a new city initiative called the
Community
Addictions Response Strategy that helps local drug users battle
trauma and addictions through customized programs.
 |
| Photo by Aysha Pabani |
| Jim Watkin is helping Janine work through
her addiction. |
"Substance use has been around since the beginning of man,
and what I know is that it's not going away," he says.
Janine, who preferred not to use her last name, participates
in the program.
A lifestyle like Janine's comes with issues of its own, says
Watkin, who is also co-founder and executive director of the London
Harm Reduction Coalition.
"A lot of places say, 'You've got to stop before I can help
you.' Harm reduction is about helping the person to be as safe
as they can be. If that means abstinence, we support that —
if not, we support that too," he says.
Janine, 47, has been using since she was 15.
Before that, she spent her time yo-yoing around Ontario, from
Toronto, where she was born, to Orillia, where her mother and
father, who was an alcoholic, split up, to Windsor, where she
met her stepfather, then to Hamilton, Niagara Falls and Ottawa
— where she would spiral into a life of debilitating drug
use.
"I remember in Grade 7 there were these boys who were bullies,"
she says. "They used to chase us with snowballs — that
was the excitement of my life."
Then everything changed, remembers Janine, who was only 14 at
the time.
"A girlfriend of mine from the townhouses — we called
them the projects — her dad gave her LSD. Then there were
these two sets of brothers," she says. "We had Jack
Daniels and two shots of gin. I thought I didn't like it. I was
getting weird and spun out.
"Then those four guys confined me for 12 hours," says
Janine, who'd been a virgin until then.
"People heard about it and I had no support," she says.
"After that, I became sexually active. I didn't care. Out
of all the nasty things that happened to me, this changed me the
most. I thought, 'How could people be so mean?'
"I decided then, I was going to drink, and I did, to cover
all that shame," says Janine, who couldn't face her controlling,
overbearing stepfather. "I told my mom I could not face my
stepfather. It was her and I alone for the day, and she allowed
me to leave."
Janine left home at 15. She stayed in Ottawa with another family
and continued going to school. But she couldn't shake the memories
of what had happened.
"I needed to forget everything," she says. "I
found that by selling drugs, I didn't have to put out sex to get
drugs and alcohol."
As she recounts this story, Janine sits on the sofa shivering.
"That's when I ran into the bikers," she says, tremors
running through her. "If anyone sold drugs …"
Her voice trails off as she pulls a blanket over her shoulders.
Her eyes seem to close without her permission.
"She was really high a few days ago," explains Watkin.
"Her body's tired and she's recuperating."
Janine hasn't slept in almost two days.
"The bikers were giving me acid," she recalls, blinking
her eyes hard and shifting around, trying to sit up straight.
"I was selling drugs, mostly THC tablets that I was chipping,"
she said, referring to the drugs she used to use and sell.
She dropped out of school in Grade 11 — and would continue
to deal drugs for what would total 20 years.
At 23, she began stripping.
At 25, she did her first of line of cocaine.
And in her early 30s, she would discover heroin.
"I was dancing in a nice bar at the Falls. But you don't
depend on coke like you do on heroin, psychologically, physically.
You need to get it every day. You go into a physical withdrawal,"
she says. "I stopped dancing. I stopped dealing coke.
"I couldn't function properly — they don't look kindly
on junkies," she says. "I had to support my habit, which
was getting kind of high."
So Janine took up sex work, and got involved in a string of abusive
relationships.
"He threatened to split my head open with an axe,"
she says about a former boyfriend. "He said I owed him $50,000
— because that's how much heroin I did."
It wasn't until about four years ago that Janine realized the
abuse had to stop. She went to a clinic where a doctor referred
her to a women's shelter.
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| Photo by Aysha Pabani |
| Janine lives in her London apartment with
her cat, Cutie. |
A few weeks later, Janine was placed in social housing, where
she's been living for the last four years.
"People need more help. And if anyone can do it, Jim can,"
she says, looking over at Watkin.
"The successful programs have a success rate of five to
35 per cent — we need more than just that," he says.
"Those people may be using but they may not have trauma
and they may not be without a support system."
The program is built around preventing drug use, keeping users
as safe as possible, providing treatment, and in cases where the
public is at risk, making use of enforcement. The program can
be tailored based on an individual's needs and circumstances.
Janine's program is a combination of harm reduction and treatment,
says Watkin.
"If we're going to talk about mental health and trauma,
it's not fair for me to ask them to stop using while they're exploring
those issues because it would be too difficult," he explains.
"If that's your way of coping, you use what you can but you
stay safe."
Watkin's coalition is made up of members who self-identify as
users. Janine is a coalition board member and attends meetings
with the city where she can serve as a voice for drug users.
"I don't think the strategy is a be all, end all but I think
it's a good first step as long as the user's voice is maintained,"
says Watkin. "They need to be there if you want to understand
the reality of their experience on the street, not having a safe
place to sleep, or waking up being raped."
Watkin and Janine have been applying to fund several projects.
They just found out they've been approved for two people to do
street outreach. They're also working to open an overnight drop-in
centre but are struggling for a space.
"Providing a safe space 24 hours where people can access
nourishment, knowledge and life skills is a big part of the strategy
and what's being neglected," says Watkin. "Drug use
doesn't just stop — they don't just use 9 to 5."
In the meanwhile, Janine is just working at maintaining her new
lifestyle.
"I'm just trying to stay as healthy as possible and trying
to maintain my nutrition," she says. "My body wears
down so quickly, especially on amphetamine-type drugs. I don't
have much of an appetite."
Watkin checks in with Janine every few days to see how she's
doing and makes sure she's safe and eating well.
"She's trying to make some changes, but she's still looking
to medicate to deal with the trauma," says Watkin.
"But she's on the board for a reason and she's played a
major role," he says. "She's knowledgeable, articulate
and caring."
This interview took place a few weeks ago. Janine has now been
drug free for what will be a week tomorrow.
She hopes others will learn from her experience. "If anyone
can relate to any part of my story, maybe they'll get some help.
I have good days and bad days — but I'm just taking one day
at a time."
