24 Apr “We want Talbot House restored” — a voice from inside

A recovering addict who asked not to be identified has sent Contrarian a 1,200-word analysis of the dispute that shut down Talbot house, the recovery center he credits with saving his life after many rounds of government-run therapy failed him.

His account is noteworthy, not only as a moving testimony from inside Talbot House, but also because it suggests the real reason for the provincial government’s hostility to the recovery centre. The unspoken issue, which the Department of Community Services report failed even to mention, is the refusal of Fr. Paul Abbass and his predecessors to support methadone treatment. The drug is a mainstay of the treatment methods favoured by Nova Scotia Addiction Services, but Talbot House rejected it as merely substituting one addiction for another.

I have edited the passages that follow for length and sentence structure, but please download the original in its entirety.

The government wants standardized policy, procedure, and governance. I think most people would agree with that. But what does that mean to the addict?

I’ll give you an example of my experiences with government-run Addiction Services. I visited a counsellor once every two weeks, three hours a month on average, only to leave and go back into the environment I was living in. I was living with all the triggers and behaviours, without even understanding what triggers meant to addiction.

I was given a “happiness chart,” and asked how happy I was, on a scale of one to 10, in certain areas of my life. I am smart enough to know that in this model there are measurable ways to improve. The chart can be a report which can be measured, standardized, and evaluated—it makes sense. But do I really think an adult coming out of detox, who may have lost custody of children wants a “happiness chart” from a person who doesn’t understand the first thing about addiction?

On the treatment method at Talbot House:

Ask the men—not the one or two that provided the platform that triggered this investigation—but the hundreds who went through the Talbot House doors. The men who are treated with dignity, and given time and space in a healthy safe environment, expressing love and their goodness to the animals and the natural surroundings, probably for the first time in a long time, or maybe ever.  Sitting down and sharing meals at a table, and having conversation. Doing daily chores. Working alongside other men; building, creating and discovering—SMILING.

Do you know how important a genuine smile is?  Ask the families of these addicts when the last time they seen a genuine smile. What about walking with your head up, and making eye contact, and having a sense of pride, and taking care of yourself?

These, too, are measurable ways but we are sorry that they are not documented in a standardized form. The Board and several Talbot House residents were in the process of working on the standards when this situation occurred.

Why wouldn’t an addict, who is thrown to the side, feel worthless, with no hope or belief that they can get back to any sense of life, whose is just a number in a system continue to use?  But what if you tried to instill value, respect, dignity, love, truth and acceptance—where investing into an “individual” not a “system” means something.

On methadone treatment:

I have witnessed addicts lined up and  sitting on the floor in the hospital waiting for their methadone. What does that say to a person? ?  More importantly,  do we ask who benefits from a methadone program?  Do you know it is easier for some to get prescriptions for themselves than it is to get food for their families, and far less embarrassing and shameful?

The government sponsors assembly line programs where you are slotted in for a few hours a month, treated like a number, and thrown some pills. Is this going to solve the problem of addiction?  It does, however,  fit their bill of governance, policy, and standardization – so congratulations. But what about dignity?

On the closure of Talbot House:

The doors were opened and the men loved the place.  A few months after DCS had shown its presence,  the doors were closed.

I am truly ashamed that our government would allow and support the recent treatment of Fr. Paul Abbass and, more importantly, allow the home of so many grateful men to be closed.

I am an addict who went through all the programs to find recovery.  Talbot House was my last stop.  I went there in 2006 and have remained close to the community and continued to volunteer up until its closing.  I am forever grateful what it has given me, my family, and for all the new relationships I have to today. Mostly, I am grateful for a place filled with like-minded people who restored my faith and belief in myself.

The men do not want the funding restored — we already know who truly benefits from your programs — we want Talbot House restored, because it is Talbot House that has given us the freedom to make choices, not tie our hands.

(Previous posts here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and here.)