NY Post article by Jared Klickstein / excerpt:
I was in fist fights, endured near-fatal staph infections and had guns pointed at my head. Every day was a battle for my life, but the biggest danger was always myself.
I finally got into state detox programs but both times I left within 72 hours. I wanted to kick heroin; instead I would head to the nearest CVS, steal everything I could, sell it and buy drugs. I would get arrested periodically, but was always released within a few days back into hell.
…Which is how, seven years ago, I found myself living on Los Angeles’ Skid Row stripped down to my underwear, crying, bleeding and trying to find a vein in which to punch a needle full of heroin.
…As the winter of 2015 approached, and my suffering became unbearable, I began to crave a lengthy stay in jail. Even amid the fog of addiction, I realized I needed to be forcibly detoxed and separated from drugs and jail was the only available answer.
And so one afternoon, in a Los Angeles Panda Express outpost, I tried to stab a homeless person who’d attacked me. I got what I wanted – I was arrested and ordered to a six-month spell in LA County Jail.
Those six months likely saved my life.
My jail experience was nightmarish, complete with racial gangs, routine violence and a cold-turkey heroin kick that involved three weeks of ceaseless vomiting.