“SRO hotels made my drug abuse worse.” Salvador
I always wanted that picture-perfect American family like on TV, that was my goal. Being different, being attracted to guys with nobody really understanding, that was really difficult to deal with. My mom is old-school Mexican, and so I had to be a tough man, no crying, no sissy stuff. I don’t blame her. She was trying to protect me in her own way. I was very aggressive, because I didn’t know what else to do.
My sister and I lived with my mother in Brentwood, California. Our father lived in the same town, but I never met him. I cut my family out at a very early age, around 11. There was a lot going on with my uncles, there was some abuse. So I put a lock on my door and literally shut them out. As a kid I spent a lot of time at other people’s homes, staying away from my house as much as I could.
“Being attracted to guys with nobody really understanding was really difficult to deal with. My mom is old-school Mexican, and so I had to be a tough man.”
I left the house when I was 18. I moved to San Francisco for the Treasure Island Job Corps. I went buck-wild when I moved there. I mean, the Castro, the city, the people, everything is so open. I felt free, I felt alive, I felt like I belonged somewhere.
After my graduation in 2004, I spent a year in Las Vegas and then moved back to Brentwood. I worked at the Holiday Inn and the Brentwood Quick Shop. And then, I got robbed at gunpoint at the Quick Stop. I was cleaning the slushy machine when these guys rushed in, guns, bandanas and everything. I finished my shift after that and I thought I was fine, but once I got into my car I realized what had happened. I was in shock and couldn’t leave the house. I got therapy and anxiety medication, and I crashed my car because I didn’t know the medication made me drowsy. Then I had to leave my mom’s place, and I moved back to Treasure Island in 2007. That is where the homelessness started.
“I got robbed at gunpoint. When I got home after that, I was in shock. Short after that, homelessness started.”
In my mind it wasn’t homelessness, it was just living at a friend’s house. But you can’t do that forever, you have to let them live their lives. My other friend was living in one of the abandoned buildings on the island. She asked me to stay with them, and I thought “Oh cool, an adventure.” I was so ignorant to my situation. When they boarded up the building, I started riding the buses at night. I also tried the homeless shelters, but those were really scary. There were some really angry people there, and I was angry, too. It was a place to stay, and yet I couldn’t stay there. So I went to Larkin Street Youth Services. That was pretty nice.
“I tried the homeless shelters, but those were really scary. It was a place to stay, and yet I couldn’t stay there.”
Around that time I started drinking to numb the pain. I surrounded myself with other drinkers. I started calling people brothers and sisters, and that caught on. We created a little family of drinkers. Sometimes we’d be kicked out of Larkin and we’d just huddle up for the night, and defrost together in the sun in the early morning. It wasn’t sexual, it was just for warmth. I still miss that companionship, the loyalty, the connection.
“We created a little family of drinkers. I still miss that companionship, the loyalty, the connection.”
At some point, I got tired of finding a place for the night and having to leave it. It got exhausting. So I got on General Assistance in 2007, and I found a place that used to be a hot tub room. It was a makeshift, but it was my place. Unfortunately, I ended up losing it soon after.
I spent some time in a hotel on Market Street. I moved from place to place for a while. That’s when I started using crystal meth and amphetamine. I don’t know why I started using it, I guess just because it was there. You would think that once you get housing that you would climb, but in fact when I had housing then, it made it worse. I was left to my own devices, and being indoors I could do a variety of drugs and not have anyone looking, not being afraid of the police. I made a point of never asking anything upfront, because I didn’t want people at my door asking for money. So I had some dignity when it came to it, some rules. But there was nothing fun about it, there was no comradery.
“I lived in different SROs. That’s when I started using crystal meth and amphetamine. Being indoors, I could do a variety of drugs and not have anyone looking, not being afraid of the police.”
I moved from place to place for a while. I spent some time in a temporary shelter in the boiler room of the Beverley Hotel, and then I met a guy who used to work for Wells Fargo and I moved in. He had to sell his place so I had to leave. That’s when I started using heroin. And then, when I started to use heroin, I realized I was in big trouble. I couldn’t believe I got myself like this. So I started methadone.
In 2012 I moved to the hotel where I still live. That’s where I had my relapse. All my neighbors were using, and there’s this look we give each other, like “Oh you’ve got some, let’s do it”. When I see someone looking like that, I get butterflies in my stomach, it feels like right before I use. It’s a tingly nervousness, and then I start breathing and gulping. After my relapse I realized that I was going to lose everything if I continued. So I stayed clean, and I’ve been clean for six years now.
“It was counseling, connecting with fellow humans what saved me. I’ve been clean for six years now.”
What helped me to stay clean was counseling. I happened to join a 12-step program at the Wellness Center (now the Healing WELL.) It was great, it gave me structure and brought me community. I want people who read this to know that if they are addicted, they shouldn’t be afraid to admit they have a problem and ask for help. Try to connect with fellow humans. That is what helped me to where I am now.
“There’s so much going on on the streets: beautiful, terrible, scary and joyous. I’d rather live my life in peace.”
Right now I have a job, I have a home and I have friends. We go out to dinners and we go to the movies. I guess I’m building a family of friends again. I have a good relationship with my coworkers, I have a good relationship with my mom and my sisters. I don’t get into arguments anymore, trying to have the last word. I made these small adjustments to my personality, and it started to work. I don’t have to remember lies after lies after lies anymore. Once I start telling the truth, it came naturally. It feels good to be calm. There’s so much going on on the streets, beautiful, terrible, scary and joyous, and I’d rather live my life in peace.
Shared periodically on Medium, and soon to be published in a book, ‘Stories Behind the Fog’ is a compendium of 100 stories of people affected by homelessness in San Francisco. The project was triggered by one man’s story that will be released next year in the form of a feature-length documentary: www.moses.movie
The story has been written by Arjanna Van Der Plas and photographed by Juli Lopez, in collaboration with our partner organization The Healing WELL.
