Comment
The Tragic loss
of ciTy roads
Why is a life-saving service forced to close its doors in an
era of rising drug-related deaths, asks Dr Carole Sharma
I’M SO SAD TO HEAR THE NEWS
OF CITY ROADS CLOSING after
so many years of life-saving
service to the drug and alcohol
users of London.
I had the great privilege of
working there as the ops
manager and registered person
in charge from 1997 to 2001.
Like many others I had
previously worked there as a
relief nurse when I first came
to London in the 1980s and like
so many others I learnt so
much by working there, so I
was delighted when I became
the ops manager in a service
that I loved.
During my time there we
focused on the crisis inter -
vention work, although we did
offer limited detox facilities for
some boroughs. The crisis
service was available to all
London boroughs and was
commissioned by all.
My abiding memories are of
the sterling and gifted staff
team who were mixed
between those with lived
experience and those who
were nurses, doctors and social
workers plus wonderful
housekeeping and catering
staff. We also had
complementary therapy
practitioners. This team
worked miracles with residents
who were in so much trouble
and needed so much help in all
aspects of their life. They gave
excellent physical care,
psychological care and support.
I would meet people coming
into the service on a Friday
after noon who, by Monday
morn ing, looked so much better
that I wouldn’t recognise them.
Much of what happened
was pretty basic, sorting out
immed iate health needs, a
rapid detox, a referral on if you
wanted it – but all of this in a
safe support ive environment
with good food, as many hot
baths as you want ed, lavender
oil on your pillow to help you
sleep and a staff team that
really knew how to get you
through and would sit up all
night with you if that’s what it
took.
We took in the worst cases
on the day, that’s how the
crisis service worked. We took
people in day and night, 365
days a year.
We did not limit the number
of times people came to the
service and some were frequent
flyers but got there in the end.
So in these days of rising
drug-related deaths it is tragic
that a lifesaving service is
forced to close for lack of
funding.
City Roads provided another
vital service as well. We had a
number of volunteers and this
was a route into working with
drug users. Many of the sector
staff, especially around my age
(63), worked at some time in
City Roads. It taught us so
much and brought a greater
under standing of the
individuals we serve.
So my last memory of City
Roads was when I was a relief
nurse back in the 80s – in the
kitchen with some of the
residents cooking Sunday
dinner and dancing to Little
Creatures by Talking Heads, we
were playing it loud.
The founders of City Roads
knew that drug users needed to
be cared for in an environment
that understood them. Where
are those specialised beds now?
RECOVERY
The power of control in the hands
of me, all emotions coming to the
surface, no more poison to push
them down to the toes in my feet,
having to learn how to deal with
them.
FINDING THE WORDS
Michelle Graham is training to be a peer mentor at Inspiring
Recovery Wakefield. Here she explains how writing poetry
has played a huge part in her recovery journey
I’VE HAD A DIFFICULT PAST and I have
mental health issues. I hear voices.
I have been sober for over a year now and
since moving to Wakefield I have had support
from Turning Point at Inspiring Recovery
Wakefield. As part of my recovery I started
writing poetry and discovered that I could use
poetry to get my feelings and emotions
about the past out of my head on to paper.
Recently, I've even started doing open
mic nights where I stand up and read my
poetry. I also attend two creative writing
12 | drinkanddrugsnews | May 2019
groups and have started writing short
stories. I’ve just finished one called
‘Christmas through the eyes of an
alcoholic’. By attending these groups I have
rebuilt my self-confidence. In the future I
hope to publish a poetry book on mental
health and addictions.
I’ve never been a social person but as
part of my recovery journey I’ve learnt to
live again, and what has got me through it
and made me stronger is my poetry. Here is
one of my poems:
Getting up in mornings with no
drink in hand, fighting off the
demon poisons, shaky but wise, like
a flow of water brushing past the
rocks, learning to live all over again.
The pain I caused mainly to myself,
unloving, uncaring, mixed up mind
of confusion, a life not worth living,
out of control disappointments.
Trying to escape the
Abuse of every kind,
Torment in my brain,
Physical pain from being thrown
around,
Voices that haunt and control,
The uncontrolled thoughts of dying,
The numbness in the head,
The bottle with words of hate,
The harm to self constant.
The recovery journey, uphill and
strained but amazing, like climbing
the highest of mountains, but left so
childlike, learning the skills of life.
Stepping stones hoping not to fall
in, sink into old ways, been a year,
a year of learning about me,
allowing myself to let people in,
who am I, feeling like road runner
running off the cliff.
Downside mental health spiralled,
voices over take, but for once in my
life I have friends that understand
me and that side of me, the group’s
so important, even for me the
oddness about so many people or
men in general, but that's getting a
bit better, but panic inside so real.
Floating on clouds of marshmallow,
the journey I’m taking of inspiration
and creativity is just the best feeling
of all, without that poison inside me.