Home at last

When you're homeless you live in 24- to 48-hour increments.

Where am I going to go? Which shelters are open? Which meals are available? Am I safe?

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The first time I sat on my own bed in my own room, my mind totally zeroed out. Those questions weren't flooding my mind anymore.

I didn't even realize how much of a burden those questions can be.

I've never had a home where I've consistently felt safe. There always seemed to be a chance of some sort of violence.

I was raised in a small, religious Ontario town by my father, an abusive alcoholic, and my helpless mother.

I went to hospital when I was four. My dad had cracked my ribs with a wooden bat after I mouthed off to my mom. I told the nurses that I'd fallen down some stairs.

I learned quickly that my home was not a place I wanted to be. I hung out with my friends so I could be away from my family. I carried that sadness with me for a long time.

By the time I was 16, I was staying out of the house for weeks or months at a time. At 19 I moved out, and aside from depression I did alright for two or three years.

I was working in a restaurant and a night club in Montreal as a cook and busboy. That's when I first tried cocaine.

I was working in a restaurant and a night club in Montreal as a cook and busboy. That's when I first tried cocaine. The high was ecstatic, but I fell so fast.

At first, I was just doing bits here and there. Then, every day. Suddenly, I could easily spend $400 in a night on drugs. That is, before I ran out of savings and racked up a massive credit card debt.

So I turned to cheaper drugs: crystal meth, speed, opioids, amphetamines. Then it wasn't fun anymore. You're so paranoid you can't watch TV, you can't listen to music, and you can't pay your rent.

The first night after I lost my apartment I was high on crystal and I was extremely paranoid already. I remember just roaming the streets, walking endlessly.

I would sleep somewhere dark for 15 minutes, then go to another spot and do that for most of the night.

I was so afraid all the time. I thought everyone was trying to kill me.

Every time I would wake up from drugs, it would feel so good just to be able to smile at someone. So, months later, I decided to get clean. But even then I was so fragile.

My mother told me I see mountains where there a meadows. If someone didn't respond to my emails, I would assume they were ignoring me.

Even waiting on hold on the phone for 45 minutes made me want to give up on getting my life back. You feel like the world is against you.

For the first time in my life I have a safe home.

All I needed was someone to reach out to me. And Operation Come Home did that.

The housing worker saw that I was serious about getting sober, and he set me up at a rooming house.

I moved in this Thursday. I can go to bed whenever I want.

I didn't even realize how much not having basic necessities like a shower and clean clothes affected me. But mainly, it's a safe place.  

For the first time in my life I have a safe home. And I finally have the time to think about what comes next.

Steve was a heavy drug user for two years. His drug use caused him to lose his apartment and live homeless for six months. He got clean and sober in August, and moved into a rooming house this week.

CBC has agreed to use an alias because Steve fears the stigma associated with homelessness may hamper his ability to maintain housing.