Drink and Drugs News DDN May 2019 | Page 12

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.