Stony Mountain inmate describes troubled cycle of relapse, crime after more than 3 years sober
'How is that not terrifying?' says Jason Walmsley, who has shared his story with CBC since 2019
Jason Walmsley's cocaine-fuelled crime bender came to an end in November 2022 with a knock on the door, a half-dozen police officers and a whole lot of guns pointed at him.
Walmsley's first reaction? Surprise that his life had come to this.
"Armed policemen with their guns drawn to knock on my door," he said. "That's where I've gotten myself to? What was I thinking?"
His second reaction? Relief.
"I was thankful that it was over. I was thankful that the using was over."
It is the latest plot twist in Jason Walmsley's life story — one that he's shared in first-person essays written for CBC Manitoba since 2019, when he was serving time in Headingley Correctional Centre, just west of Winnipeg.
At that point, Walmsley wanted to publicly document his sobriety journey.
He was sober when he was released from Headingley. He was sober while he searched for work. He was sober while he reconciled with family. He was sober while he supported others at the Salvation Army.
In total, Walmsley was sober for 1,325 days.
Until he wasn't.
One April 2022 morning, Walmsley texted his former contact, looking to score some cocaine.
He told himself it was just going to be a one-off. He knew that was a lie.
"Like, 'this isn't a relapse.… I can use it and I can be OK,'" Walmsley recalls telling himself, "even though I bloody well know I'm not. And I can't and I won't."
From that point on, Walmsley's all-too-familiar descent back into active addiction began again. Instantly, he lived for his next hit.
Soon, he ran out of money. Later, he got back into crime, mostly commercial break-ins — and a lot of them.
He did nothing to hide his tracks, he says.
"I commit the crime in desperation, and then I retreat back to my dungeon, as I called it — my apartment," and "wait for the cops to show up to stop the cycle for me," he said.
On Nov. 20, 2022, they did just that.
Back behind bars
Today, Walmsley is behind bars again — this time, in Stony Mountain, a federal penitentiary north of Winnipeg, paying the legal price for his most recent property-related crimes.
He is reflective as he tries to articulate, after so many months sober, what went wrong.
He'd braced himself for the risk of a drug relapse. He thought he'd steeled himself against one. He didn't factor in, he figures, the risk of a "mental relapse."
"A relapse of emotion, a relapse of anger, relapse of resentment — those types of feelings that I relapsed on, well before the addiction," he said.
"I was angry with the world. I was bitter towards certain people for things that had happened and things that I did or didn't do. And even though I wasn't using, I was lower than if I was using."
A lot of people are relieved to be caught because it's over.- Zilla Jones
At this point, Walmsley crumbles. He begins to sob. He begins to panic. Because, he says, he has no clue what he needs to stop the cycle that is his life — addiction, crime, incarceration, sobriety and relapse.
"I don't have that answer. I really wish I did," Walmsley said. "I know from past experience that I've wanted it before. I've wanted it so bad and I've gone the other way. How is that not terrifying?"
Criminal defence lawyer Zilla Jones has seen it go both ways before.
"Punishing people doesn't work for most people. The vast majority come back," said Jones, who is also the board chair of the John Howard Society of Manitoba.
"A lot of people are relieved to be caught because it's over."
What the public doesn't see is the anguish that fuels addiction-driven crimes, said Jones.
"You're only hearing a small part of the story," she said. "They need sufficient support, they need sufficient trauma counselling."
Treat addiction as chronic illness: doctor
Dr. Erin Knight is the medical director of addiction services at Winnipeg's Health Sciences Centre. She says it's time to treat substance addiction as the chronic illness that it is — a disorder that leaves people struggling to survive it.
"It removes the morality from it," Knight said.
She compares it to someone living with diabetes, who might manage it well for years at a time, until something goes sideways.
"Something happens in their life and then the diabetes gets out of control, " Knight says. "There's no moral judgment from that."
It's a shift in perception she says both the public and those living with substance use disorder need to embrace.
"It not only frames the expectations of their journey in a realistic way, but also reframes people's judgment."
Back at the penitentiary, Walmsley rubs his reddened eyes, laughs a bit nervously, and composes himself once again.
"You know that question, 'What do I need?' I need to write that in massive letters above my door, and I need to figure it out," he said.
"It's such a simple question on the surface, but it's so complicated. I need to figure it out."
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