For forty years, St. Joseph's treatment centers have provided comprehensive health services to treat substance abuse and addiction. With personalized treatment plans and an unrelenting belief in the inherent worth of each person, we help individuals shed their destructive behavior and guide them down the path to sobriety. Read firsthand accounts of the St. Joseph's rehabilitation experience from some of our alumni.
Stories of Recovery – Portraits of Joy
"I grew up in Williamsburg, Brooklyn in a large Catholic family where there was no history of drug or alcohol abuse. I started working in building maintenance where I worked midnight till eight in the morning. The guys I worked with all drank, so I did it to fit in. the drinking got out of control. I was blacking out; I got into a marriage because my girlfriend became pregnant. And I started drinking more and more. Then came the drugs and I began stealing and cheating and all of the other bad things that come with addiction. When I came home one night, I found my girlfriend with another man in my house, and that was it. I was out of control. Then my Mother died and I hit bottom. By the time I was living in a subway and sleeping in the park, homeless, I called my sister who picked me up, cleaned me up, and contacted Graymoor. When I arrived there, I looked clean, but was a beaten man with no self worth, no self-esteem. I would go to the meetings and listen to alumni from St. Joseph's and Graymoor tell of a life beyond my wildest dreams. So I applied myself by listening and taking suggestions. Some of them had had lives worse than my own. From there, I went to St. Joseph's and with the help from the staff there, I was on my way. See, I kept blaming everyone else for my problems, when in fact it was me. I had to own my part, which I did in my fourth step. Then I went to the Guesthouse in Syracuse where I cooked, cleaned, and became employable. It was a great experience, and one I'll never forget. I got a sponsor, got a home group. St. Joseph's gave me my life back. I love going to the (Annual) picnic. The Reunion is always a great time. And yes, today I have a life beyond my wildest dreams. The program works, you just need to take suggestions. I am living proof.
Thank you,
Joseph D.
Syracuse
I grew up in Bayonne, New Jersey with my parents and my sister. We were a close, loving family, and drugs and alcohol were not an issue. From a very early age I was taught to be honest and kind. I went to Catholic grammar school and I knew right from wrong. I was a good kid, but I was a fat kid who wanted to fit in. when I was nine, my desire to fit in began to battle against everything my parents had instilled in me. I was uncomfortable with the fight inside my head, but I just didn't want to feel like such an outcast.
I don't remember my first drink, but I remember being about eleven years old and drinking with older kids and pouring out the alcohol at every chance I got because I hated the taste and the way it made me feel. I wanted to fit in and maybe these kids knew something my family didn't. On the other hand, I fell in love with drugs. They were like a switch that shut off everything and made me numb. I like that they worked so well, but hated the feelings of guilt. I started stealing from my family, selling drugs, and robbing to feed my addiction. I went to my first rehab at sixteen. I had my first taste of being incarcerated and that became my life. It was a constant consequence of my drugging, and I didn't care. I became a vicious, nasty, lying creature to survive, even though that wasn't who I really was.
From seventeen to thirty-six, I'd been incarcerated over forty times with three state prison terms. I remember calling my Dad from jail and he would tell me how happy he was to know that I was safe. I knew nothing else, and I was stuck. For years I wanted to stop, but didn't think I could. I tried detox and rehab throughout the years, but never took suggestions. It took my going to prison in '04 and coming home to my Father dead and my Mother dying to actually hit my bottom. I found an excuse to go overboard. I gave up on life and wanted to die... I remember waking up and crying out loud. I wished I were dead. The drugs weren't working anymore and I couldn't stop the feelings from coming, no matter what I did. Then I remembered someone mentioning Graymoor.
I found my way to Graymoor and while I was there, something changed and I found hope. From there I went to St. Joes where I learned to identify my feelings instead of going straight to anger. From there it was suggested I go to the Schenectady Guest House and I complied. Within a month, I woke up to firemen yelling at me to get out of the house because it was on fire. I stood outside and watched everything I owned burn to ashes. I made a choice to ride the wave and stick it out! The Fellowship gave me hope; they came in droves with their support and strength. They were there when I felt alone.
Today I am honored to say that I am President of the Schenectady Fellowship. My life started when I got sober and it is truly a part of who I am. The Fellowship has a special place in my heart, as does St. Joe's. I owe my life to both.
Thank you,
John P.
Greetings! My name is Cameron S. My journey into recovery began in July 0f 2004. At that time I was twenty years old and at such a young age, things were already looking pretty hopeless, or so I thought. Like so many of us, I was on a destructive path. At that time, I had no known concept of any kind of spirituality, nor did I ever think my life would undergo such an amazing transformation. After a pleasant stay in detox, I was dropped off at t. Joe's in July 20th. I was feeling all kinds of emotions, but I was primarily scared. I felt as if I was starting to lose a big part of my life. Needless to say, it was actually going to be the beginning of my ife.st. Joe's taught me a wealth of information. I realized much of it would not be any good unless I put it into practice when I got out. After ten weeks of the program, I left that place glowing. In such a short amount of time I had never experienced such joy and well-being. The work was not easy but was incredibly beneficial. I've now been sober for four-and-a-half years. So much has happened. I'm currently the President of the Poughkeepsie Chapter and it definitely has its way of keeping me connected to the Fellowship. Everything has not always been easy, but let's face it, it never is, whether you're sober or not. Life is life and we don't get free passes. The biggest difference is that I'm able to experience it sober and show up as a human being, even through the hardships. I'll be eternally grateful to St. Joe's and all its hard work. Thanks.
I would like to share with you that I have a sense of peace within myself that I am not sure I have ever felt before and most certainly not in the past here years. I will always worry about my Son, but I know I have no control and will have to let him take care of himself in the process. I helped him get where he is, but it is up to him now. St. Joseph's program helped me accept this, although I know it will be a work in progress for me too.
I feel at peace knowing my Son has learned the tools he needs to remain sober, and he has been taught how to apply them, and that is critical to any addict's success. I am so thankful he was able to be at St. Joseph's to experience and learn what he needs to to move forward. If he chooses not to use these tools, I now understand I am not in control to judge it.
- A resident's parent after attending a Family session
Hello, my name is Paul and I'm an alcoholic.
I was born and raised in Queens, New York, where my family owned a bakery.
I went to grammar school at PS 62, and while I was in school, I always tried to get good conduct awards. Even though I was treated with a lot of love and respect, as sort of being a privileged kid because my family owned the bakery, I felt out of place at school. I felt like I didn't belong anywhere. I guess that's why I started hanging around with people I perceived as being more exciting than me.
At the age of 12 on Christmas Eve, I had my first drink with a friend who lived just around the corner. We got some Boon's Farm apple and strawberry wine and we drank it in the schoolyard park and got drunk for the first time – very drunk.
I came home, threw up on the presents and the Christmas tree, caught a beating from my father, and ruined Christmas. It was a very sad day, I couldn't work in the bakery, and I swore I'd never do that again. But I remembered what it did for me. It made me feel very comfortable. It made me feel like I did belong.
One night when I was older, I left a bar to go get high, because I was not just limited to alcohol. We were going to go smoke some angel dust and this car pulled up and one of the guys I was with got pushed into the back of the car and I never saw him again. He was killed, he got shot.
I went to college after that because I was scared. I didn't want that to happen to me. In college, I was trying to become a doctor or a nurse. I was studying one evening for an exam in the library and it came over me that I could never become a doctor, I couldn't measure up to my brother who was a scientist. I forgot about the exam, went to the bar, and started drinking. I was discharged from college when my grades dropped.
After my father had a stroke, I went back to the bakery against my father's will. He gave me a retirement check to keep me away from the business. But I did go back and I'd go to the bars after work and buy rounds for the folks to show them I was a success. Well, slowly but surely, the business failed.
I wound up selling the business and ended up in East New York. I was living in a crack house and realizing for the first time that there was something wrong. I used to lie down in bed there with literally one eye open thinking someone was going to kill me.
I left that place and went to live on the subway in New York City. I used to think, how on Earth did I get to this place, alone on this train? My father had a nice neon sign with the family name in the window of the bakery. I used to look at that sign and know that I had a good trade. And now I was on the train I was suicidal wondering if there was a way to just check out.
I used to raise money by passing a basket on the train telling people I was disabled. I'd take the money, usually about $40, and head for the bars until one day I woke from an alcoholic blackout on the train tracks.
In the hospital, a social worker who happened to know me couldn't figure out how I ended up this way and asked me to think in ten minutes how many times in my life that I'd gotten in trouble, and when was the last time that I hadn't drunk or used drugs. It was then that I realized I couldn't think back to any time in the past years that I was sober.
They sent me to a place called Graymoor where I saw folks with the same kind of hardships I'd experienced. But I knew something was different there – these were hard-core drug addicts and alcoholics, like me, but they were singing the St. Francis prayer in the chapel, and they were hugging each other. I didn't know what was working for them, but I needed to know what was going on with their lives and maybe it could work for me. The folks at Graymoor then sent me to a place called St. Joseph's in Saranac Lake.
When I first got to St. Joe's I had 60 days of "clean time", but I didn't feel there was any hope of me living a purposeful life. St. Joe's really helps people understand where they're at and where they could be if they took the right actions, and that it's up to us to carry these actions out into the world. For example, I was raised in a pretty well to do family, and yet I had no gratitude for it. Today gratitude to me is an action word. It has nothing to do with saying, "thank you." It's about what do I do to show that thankfulness.
Once I went through the St. Joe's program, they sent me to one of their guesthouses in Syracuse. Now, I'm truly blessed to have worked at a hospital for the last ten years and have had a lot of opportunities since I've gotten sober to share my experience, strength, and hope.
And that's what it is, hope. Hope was something I didn't know anything about until I got to St. Joe's. I learned that I didn't need to give up. I learned that there was a place in life for me. And, by the grace of God, in another couple of months I'll be celebrating 12 years of continued sobriety, and I'm very grateful.
Gratefully submitted,
Paul P.
When I was asked to write a few paragraphs to be published in St. Joseph's newsletter, my first reaction was, "What could I possibly say that others would be interested in?" then I thought for a moment about my transformation and a feeling of gratitude fell over me like a warm blanket.
Sixteen years ago I was near death's door. I was a single mother with three children that I couldn't care for. I had selfishly lied, stolen, cheated and manipulated my way out of relationships, jobs, homes, my beautiful children's lives and the family that loved me unconditionally. They all tried unsuccessfully to help me for years. I could not hear them. I was hopeless, helpless, and wanted to die but did not have the courage to take my own life.
I don't remember where I got the phone number for St. Joseph's, but I do remember making the call late one night. A nurse answered and spoke to me in a gentle voice as I ranted and raved about the condition of my life. She gave me the direction. She told me I had to sober up and call back (I don't remember how many more calls that poor women had to answer from me, but each time she talked me off the ledge and gave me a glimmer of hope.) I managed to stay clean for six days and was told to take a bus to Albany where someone would meet me. I had no idea until many months later that my Higher Power had taken the reigns.
When I arrived at St. Joseph's I was given the message of hope. The staff said they would help me along the way as long as I was willing to get out my own way and allow the change to occur. In my mind I had my own agenda but somehow, somewhere, I continued one day at a time to allow the staff to guide and shape me. My Higher Power was working overtime on me. At one point during my stay my disease had the better of me as I was sitting in a room waiting for the AA meeting to start and planning my get-away, a beautiful woman appeared to tell her story. Her name was Lois. All I heard was, "I was restored to a woman with dignity and respect..." I heard that! Yes, that is what I want! From that moment on I decided to try the program the way St. Joseph's was teaching it, not my version. It was the most difficult thing I have ever had to find the courage to do – get honest with myself.
I completed the program and went to the women's Guest House in Schenectady. I found a job, saved a few dollars, and moved into my own apartment. I was connected with the Fellowship, I found a good sponsor who talked me through the twelve steps of the program. Somehow, I was able to surrender. As time passed, wonderful things began to happen in my life. Over the years, I am grateful to have been able to give back to those in need. It's true – my life has gotten better beyond my wildest dreams. Thank you St. Joe's for helping me find the good within myself. Till this day whenever I run into Lois at the annual Reunion, or another alumni event, I always remind her of the words she said that changed my life. She doesn't remember but I will never forget. Today I truly am a woman of dignity and respect.
- Donna J.
Once getting to St. Joseph's, I was in for a big surprise. I had no idea that my life was about to change for the better. I had never cried so much, or gotten in touch with my feelings until I went up the "Spiritual Mountain", as we call it today. They said in order to recover, we had to be honest with ourselves and get honest is what I did. It was one of the hardest things I ever had to do, and I am glad I did.
- Susan M.
My journey began in 1991. My life was a continuous string of car crashes, overdoses, arrests, and DUIs. My spirit was broken and my entire family was in a state of despair over what I was doing with my life. Someone once told me there was no such thing as coincidence. A coincidence was in fact God's way of doing something nice for you without letting you know he had a hand in it. I decided to come to St. Joe's for help with my addictions. The rest is history. The gifts in my life are too numerous to list, but I'd like to tell you about the most precious gift I received. My Mom passes away this past May. God kept me sober and allowed me to be there for her in her last days. She told me she was proud of the man I'd become. I was able to hold her hand and wipe a final tear from her eye as she took her last breath. I told her I loved her as she passed onto God's Kingdom. Of all the gifts I have received, this was the greatest gift of all!
- John L.
I took my first drink when I was thirteen and, God willing, my last when I was twenty. Over the years of my active addiction, I had tried to stop many times and had a lot of people in my life who tried to help me, but I pushed them all away. At the end I would do anything to get high and one shameful moment that sticks out is when I stripped the aluminum siding off of my house to sell for drug money. On the occasion of my last treatment, I entered St. Christopher's Inn and planned on being there just a short time. After a few weeks, I started to allow God to work in my life and I received a scholarship to St. Joe's. After completion, I went off to the Poughkeepsie Guest House which is where I met many of the people I call my friends today. I am currently the President of the Poughkeepsie Fellowship and have been for the past three years. In October I achieved one of my first goals I set for myself, which was receiving my five-year sobriety pin. I am twenty-six years old now and have never had a legal drink. I owe everything that has happened in my sobriety to God, St. Joe's, and the Friars of the Atonement.
- Jason H.
Hi, my name is Michael R. I'm an alcoholic, and then some. The "then some" because I didn't care what I took to get a buzz. From Tester's glue to shooting speedballs. I started drinking at the age of fourteen and loved the very first drink I had. As a shy and lonely kid (one of nine), booze did for me what I could not do for myself. After high school, my one continuous job was daily drinking, although many times I would try to make it till noon. I believed the old saying, "Only alcoholics drink before noon." That phase lasted only a short time until I spiraled out of control, losing good job after good job until my residences alternated between park benches in Manhattan's Central Park and Bryant Park with pit stops in between to the Port Authority. I was finally arrested for armed robbery and sent to jail.
One week out of jail and I went back to my parole officer, begging him to send me back in for the remaining five years. I preferred the institution to the nightmare my life had become. The P.O. was the first person to suggest I might have an alcohol and drug problem. He also assured me there was a better way to live and I surrendered to the fact that I was an alcoholic and drug addict. From that point on my life went uphill.
My last drink and drug was on November 22, 1983. I was sent to Rockland County Rehab for a few months, then to St. Joe's in January 1984. For the next twelve weeks, they told me who and what I was and I hated it, but I had nowhere else to go. I completed the program and went off to the Schenectady Men's House, where I lived for four months, got a sponsor, home group and went to 90 meetings in 90 days, and stayed sober.
So many wonderful things have happened, beyond my wildest dreams. My family is close (sometimes too close!) to me again. I got married, have two grown children, and am a grandfather of one, with another on the way. I have worked in the same job for almost 20 years and love it! From a park bench, I now have a lovely home in the suburbs, who would have thought.
Along this 20 plus year journey of sobriety, I have come to know a loving and forgiving God, who has blessed me with the commitment to AA meetings and the foresight and ability to stay close to the local chapter of St. Joe's Fellowship. Through working the 12 steps, I have come to know many of the Promises of the program, including the wonderful friendships developed along with the way, and all it took was not drinking or drugging "one day at a time."
- Michael R.
Hi everyone, I'm Lisa and I'm an addict. Wow! Never did I think I would have the courage to admit that, much less introduce myself in that way. My drinking and drugging has expanded over two decades. I never learned any coping mechanisms and therefore, drugs became my way of life. Drugs were everything to me. I spent twenty years suffering with depression and became suicidal. Finally one day I realized my want for drugs had turned into a need for them and I could no longer cope with life as I knew it. I became the person your parents warned you about and I knew I needed help.
I was at a rehab on Long Island and St. Joe's was suggested. All I knew was that it was my first time through and I wanted to find myself and regain my spirituality. I had a long ten weeks at St. Joe's, but that's nothing compared to what they gave me in return. The fact that I've been given a gift, the gift of sobriety – a gift like no other, is a miracle. I came to Schenectady, as suggested, and I decided to stay. I am actively a part of the Fellowship and have served as Vice President, and am the area representative – who would have thought I'd represent anything? My life isn't always the greatest, but it sure beats the last twenty-one years. I feel honored to have been given a second chance and without the help of St. Joe's, the Fellowship, and the people I've met along the way, who knows what I'd be doing right now? To all who read this, keep it in the day and life has a funny way of working out on its own.
- Lisa L.