Sergey

     When my parents had me back in 1980 in Tobolsk city, they were unlikely aware of what they were to go though on my account. I was an uncooperative child and became independent when still very young. At the age of 12 my friends and I started to prick raw opium and to smoke marihuana. Tobacco was there long before. We were a “cool” team known and feared by the whole school. Instead going for classes we would stay in the school yard taking away money and fashionable clothes from many. One of my classmate’s father paid me for backing his son.
     I wanted to be like those older men who were the influence both in prison and when free and rejected any kind of official authority. When they asked me to rob somebody’s apartment I did and considered myself a Fantomas, untraceable and cool. Once however I was caught. And having seen needle scars and bruises, my parents found out that their son was not only a thief but a drug addict too. But I didn’t care; I only wanted to live my way. Just come to think how many I had made things lively for if at the age of 15 I had almost been killed a few times caught in the dark. But something never let me die then.
     I tried heroin after another 6-month imprisonment and used it for a few months. I never considered myself an addict though despised those who we thought were “shooters” or "muggleheads" and would beat up and rob them. Alcohol was a regular drink for me and this is what killed! I found myself trapped without noticing how it had happened. The wild way of life caused a lot of health problems. At the age of 21 I wouldn’t be recognized by many often times. When my parents wouldn’t let me home, I would get up on the roof and then into the window or break the door. My mother attempted to keep me locked up at home but I would drop a bottle tied to a rope down to the window of the lower story where our neighbors alcoholics lived who would always gladly fill my bottle. This way I lived for quite a while, boozing, getting hospitalized, back to booze after courses and going on like that like a marry-go-round. I didn’t care I was degrading.
     In this condition, induced, in the hospital, I was found by a school friend of mine named Aleksey. He had just come for a little leave from the center where he was taking a drug rehabilitation course. It’s not that my brain was capable of understanding a thing at the moment but he kept on talking about salvation and a way out. What? Where? We exited the hospital together; I got boozed up and was now ready to go with him anywhere. Near Asbest, in the woods where the center is located, I lived for a month like a zombie. I walked around, worked, ate but couldn’t fathom the things going on. After a few months, I started to realize that miracles were happening around. The multitude of drug and alcohol addicts all together in one place were acting in a funny way and praying to God. And I realized that God was real and He wanted to help me change my useless life. In 6 months when on leave at home, I realized God had indeed worked a miracle in my life. I found myself not feeling for a drink and disgusted by the smell of tobacco. And many other things did not attract me any longer.
     It has been a few years now since I first came to the center and I find it safe saying now that yes, I was meant to go all the way even to the very bottom of the gutter. Otherwise, my sense of pride would not have allowed me to value what God has given me now. The beloved wife and a son is what I didn’t even dream of any longer but have now. I have many more plans and dreams that I believe will surely come true.