Dwayne Jenkins (Addiction Counselor)

For me, I now know what recovery brings. It brings renewed bonds with family members; a bright outlook on life; and a positive, productive future.

A drug addict? Me? Never. You would never have guessed that I, nice boy Dwayne Jenkins, could have been addicted to drugs—much less, crack cocaine.

I was the kindhearted, only child from a good family. My parents were married and both were present in the home.Yes, my father had a history of drinking, but he quit when I was 15 and never drank again.

I did well in school and was a great athlete. I played sports to make friends, and I was in the science club. In the yearbook, I was named “most likable.” Everyone thought I was a great friend. How sad that none of my peers really knew the real Dwayne. I was only a surface friend.

Since I appeared great on the outside, my parents had no idea that I had started down a path of self-destruction. My extended family lived nearby, and all my aunts and uncles encouraged their kids to be more like me. They didn’t know the “real” me either. They thought I was well adjusted and did well in school. Little did they know that my cousins knew the real me, and many of them were already like me.

Though I had parents who loved me and always looked out for my best interests, I never felt that I fit in with my peers. I always felt that I wasn’t good enough, cool enough or completely accepted. I was ashamed of being an only child. I didn’t have the latest clothes and toys. I felt inadequate compared to my friends. To cover up these feelings, I did anything to be accepted.

I was a chameleon. I would be one person with one group of friends, a completely different person with other friends, and still another person when I was with my parents.

I started drinking when I was 15 years old—the same year that my father quit drinking. Clearly, I missed a lesson there. Instead, I drank to be accepted by my peers. So I latched onto my “friends.” I thought my friends were my fellow jocks and peers who were so cool. Little did I know then that real friends wouldn’t encourage destructive behavior.

These “friends” of mine would drink and do drugs because it was the cool thing to do. Trying to be cool, too, I tried my first joint when I was 16. That was it. I was hooked. I started smoking marijuana and drinking on the weekends in high school, but it wasn’t long before I proceeded on to all other drugs.

I managed to graduate from high school and do pretty well. From there, I went on to college at Frostburg State University (Frostburg, Md.). I planned to major in sociology. During college, my life took a steep turn. I thought of college as a big party. Mom and Dad weren’t there to watch what I was doing. I didn’t have anyone looking over my shoulder, making sure I was doing the right thing. I had chosen a school, on purpose, that was as far away from home as possible while still being in the state of Maryland.

Instead of taking my studies seriously, I wanted to be cool and liked by my peers. I started getting high every day. I tried all different types of drugs: pills, hallucinogens, cocaine, etc. And, I kept doing them even if I didn’t like them. If my friends thought a drug was cool, so did I—at least on the surface.

As you can imagine, it was tough to keep up my studies while getting high every day. My grades slipped and I eventually failed out of school in my third year. Instead of admitting my failure, I lied to my friends and family and told them all I was going home to help my mom. My dad had had two heart attacks, and the last one left him needing to retire. He did, and Mom was left to provide for the household.

I went home and got a job at a warehouse in the shipping and receiving department. I quickly befriended a woman whose husband I had been friends with. They had the best of everything (so I thought), and I wanted it. We started hanging out, and they introduced me to intravenous Methamphetamine. We got high together regularly—often during work.

Soon that wasn’t enough, so I progressed to shooting heroin. Who would have ever thought that a guy like me could do something so dangerous and dirty? My job at the warehouse didn’t last, and I moved onto another job as a welfare caseworker for the state of Maryland. Here I was working for the state to help others in need, and I was abusing my body daily. I was closing my eyes to my habit and living a lie.

It was at this time that I met a woman that I had to be with. She was a friend of some of my friends and we started hanging out. I hid my habit from her, and we started to build a relationship together. A relationship built on lies is not built on a strong foundation. However, I worked hard to hide my addiction to stay with her.

Our relationship lasted for 11 years, during which we had two sons. At the beginning, when our boys were young, I abandoned the harder drugs and stuck with alcohol and marijuana. That didn’t last either, and a few years later one of my co-workers at the state introduced me to crack cocaine. Once again, I was hooked.

Getting high was all that mattered to me. My girlfriend would give me money to go buy diapers, and instead I would go buy drugs. I’d get high and place our son on the toilet so he wouldn’t make a mess. My girlfriend was a health-care worker with daytime hours, so she wasn’t home to witness my behavior. I was running the household high. I was lying to my family, lying to by bosses at work, and ultimately lying to myself. I had a serious problem, but I didn’t want to face it. I didn’t want to face myself.

One day I walked off my job and never went back. I moved my girlfriend and kids in with her mother, and then with my parents. We wore out our welcome quickly, and I was not helping the situation. I was wearing out my welcome with my girlfriend, too.

Eventually, I got a job at a convenience store as an assistant manager, which afforded us to live in our own place. By this time, the family had come to realize that I was an addict. My girlfriend lost all trust in me; she knew I was blowing money on drugs. Worse than that, she knew I was unfaithful to her and to our boys. Finally, she asked me to leave.

I left and moved in with friends, feeling I was free to live my own life again. However, my bad decisions only continued, including my drug use. Soon I was arrested for writing bad checks. I served 30 days in jail because I thought I was above the law and didn’t do my community service. When I got out and went back to my convenience store job, I stole money from the store’s safe. At this job, I was responsible for keeping the books. I was so devious, that I actually pretended to “help” my boss uncover the culprit behind the theft. Eventually, another employee mentioned that I had been in the office on my day off—the same day the money was taken. After failing a lie-detector test, I was fired and went to jail for 60 days.

I continued to aimlessly wander through life, switching jobs regularly because I couldn’t keep them and maintain my drug habit. I was living with my parents and using them. My boys were growing up, and I was not being a father to them. I broke promises, missed important events, and lied about why. Crack cocaine had me using drugs against my will. I couldn’t stop, and I couldn’t go a day without getting high.

My “bottom” occurred one day when my oldest son was 11 years old. He was playing baseball, and I had promised to go and watch his end-of-season game. The day of the game, I was at my cousin’s crack house getting high and blew off the game.

My son was so disappointed and heartbroken. His mother was so angry that she brought him down to the crack house to see me: his “father.” He wanted to know why I hadn’t gone to his game. Instead of an answer, he saw what a broken man I had become. And, he saw the shame in my eyes. He knew what I had truly become.

My parents threw me out of the house immediately. They knew it was time for tough love. I had a friend who worked at Second Genesis—he was a graduate of the program—and he brought me an application for treatment. I filled it out. At the same time, I was waiting to hear about a job working with kindergarten parents to encourage education. Thank God, the bed in treatment came first.

Of course, treatment wasn’t my idea of a life-changing event. I went into treatment to get my parents off my back and to continue running from my responsibilities. Little did I know that I would never be the same deviant Dwayne again.

My first lesson at Second Genesis was learning that I needed to grow up. I needed to take responsibility and stop my manipulation. I had an entire network of family and friends who enabled me. It was time for me to be accountable for Dwayne. But to do that, I had to learn who he really was.

I couldn’t keep being the person that others wanted me to be. I had spent 30 years hiding me. I always thought that if you got to know the real me, you wouldn’t like me. I needed to be liked by everyone. I now know that isn’t possible. Instead of hiding, I now had to look in the mirror and find myself. Then I had to let others meet and get to know the “real” me.

In treatment, something clicked. I realized how bad life had become, and that I still had the potential to do something with my life. I plugged into the program with all my energy. The Second Genesis staff ran groups, monitored the house, made sure change was occurring, and intervened whenever necessary. It was clear that those who cared, really cared. On a daily basis, though, my peers confronted me when I was wrong and held me strictly accountable for my actions. My treatment came from my peers—my new family—and they showed me tough love. In return, I did the same.

When I graduated from the program, I worked hard to stay clean. It wasn’t easy though. But I stayed connected, and the program saved me again and again. One person who gets help can light the way for another. Those who had been in recovery longer than me helped me to look to the future with hope.

For me, I now know what recovery brings. It brings renewed bonds with family members; a bright outlook on life; and a positive, productive future. I see where I am able to be more honest with myself and with others. I no longer have to live behind the mask.

About a year after I graduated from Second Genesis, I knew I wanted to give back to the community that had saved my life. I came back to my director, Brian Ballard, and asked him for a job. He gave me one as an addictions counselor. The rest is history. I found my calling.

Today, I feel strongly about what I do. Treatment needs a committed staff to make it effective. Working to change lives through behaviors goes beyond just being a job. It is a purpose. I’m here to stop clients from using drugs and alcohol, and to change their lives. I care about what I do. I provide hope. I am a light for their future.