A Community Garden That Ending My 6-year Long Addiction

Truth be told, I don't really remember much of my past and that scares me. So much of my life, gone. The effects of my addiction clouded much of my past. I can't see it but I know it's there. It must be. Within time, one by one, the puzzle piece of my memories will come to light. Day by day, getting better. As I write this, It'll be my second day being sober.

It all started with my old friend and me sitting in the hidden alley at night. "Are you sure?" he asked, 6 years later my bank account, zeroed, I can't remember a thing, life is meaningless, but most importantly, I'm hurting the ones God sent to heal me. My addiction caused me to dislike everything and everyone that was good for me. I wasn't myself. Who was I? I even questioned if I had multiple personalities. What grounded me was my passions; end domestic violence and sexual assault, help regenerate ecosystems, and develop opportunities for my family to stay off the streets. This I know is something that will never leave me but when I was addicted, the meaning left and all my efforts were redirected towards getting my next fix. This made me wonder if it was already too late for me. That my passions died along with who I was. This is who I'll be forever, Defranco the addict.

As an addict, I was high functioning. Surprisingly, I still helped the community. I hosted food drives, start a clothing pantry for kids at my high school, and gave back when I could. I would've live life normally, except when I had the urge to smoke. In the back of my mind, I thought "none of it matters until I get high". It was as if all my life's work was to get high, and that scared me even more. Were my passions just ways for me to get my drugs? Disgusting. I hoped that my passions were the goals I needed to lift me from my addictions but it was so hard. At times, I'd sell things like my middle school trumpet all the way to using my FASFA money to feed a hunger that just never ended. (A reason why I'm writing this is to pay for school) Month after month, bank account zero, head foggy, so many questions towards myself like "am I addicted?, I'll stop tomorrow, todays the day," but It never was. Not until I met Gardopia Garden. A community garden on the east side of town.

August 15, 2020. The day I became a board member of their non-profit. Being apart of Gardopia Gardens was a reminder of who I truly am, the importance of my passions, and the meaning to my life. When applying, I didn't intend to use them to help battle my addictions but like a ray of sunshine reaching toward the hole I was in, they became one of the only things that kept the good me, alive. As a board member, you receive a shirt that has our logo and a bolded font that says "Board Member". I wear that shirt so much. It's my suit, my armor, I feel invincible to my hunger when I wear it. I feel strong. Every day we were in the garden I had it on, any event we had off sight, you best believe I wore it. I dare not wear it, if not on official business only, that shirt is some kind of magic special. I mean it wasn't because of the material it was made of, trust me it was Gilden, it was the fact that I wasn't just "Defranco the addict" anymore, I was Defranco, a board member of Gardopia Gardens. I forgot about the hunger. I stopped thinking of my next fix because I was occupied by helping design their website, coordinating volunteers, or creating logical models. I was who I was meant to be a Gardopian. It was the fact that I was considered apart of a group of developers who are building something that is beyond their own life. To value a piece of green Gilden fabric, I might be crazy but to value a community that works diligently towards helping the planet, that, was something I know I was ready to dedicate my life to. Sadly, at this point in the story, my life was just dedicated to getting my next high.

Smoking caused me to have chaotic fits of rage. One dark and lonely night, I punched through a glass window. The reason won't ever be justified but I did it, maybe to express the way I felt? Trapped in a prison I couldn't escape. I wanted to break free. When I pulled out my hand from the window an IV of blood started pouring out my veins. I stumbled to my room and sat there in a pool of my blood, accepting that, I'm going to die. When I looked down, I had on that Gilden green shirt. Trying my best not to get blood on the shirt I swayed my red-stained arm away from the shirt. I thought back to the very first day they gave me that shirt, the CEO, who has dreads, handing me the shirt. "Here ya go, wear it proudly", he said. I thought back to the conversations we had about connecting key stakeholders in our community in order to expand our programs to other schools around the city, wanting to save the world we all felt. Falling in and out of consciousness, those memories started to pour in as my blood poured out. The faces of the children we taught soil health too, the bunnies who roamed the garden, the sun shining threw the trees during one of our farmer markets, the smiles of the volunteers who never met before but at that point in time, in our garden, they became allies in the fight for a better life for all. I had to think of the bigger picture. Who's to say that there isn't someone out there bleeding right now, holding on to the memories of a brighter day. Our staff? Our volunteers? Could our community garden be the one thing that pulls them from the void, that clogs their wounds, and gets them back on their feet? I know that it did for me. I needed to stop the bleeding, not just in me but for anyone who was at their breaking point. I needed to reprioritize, I needed to get back on my feet and ask them for their forgiveness. To ask "can I still grow with y'all?".

Inner strength, the vision for the future, and that community are the things that are currently guiding me towards sobriety. I will give what has been gifted to me, a belief that the situation you're in, can be made better, you can escape, you can find yourself again, and that yes, you can always grow with us. I thank them for allowing me to be part of something that helped me remember who I am, a large scale environmentalist, who loves to dance in the garden. If it wasn't for the gift of that shirt, or more so, the gift of allowing me to be apart of that community and in order to make those memories, I would have bled out that day. So here's to many days out of the gutter and into the garden. Thank you Gardopia Gardens. Your love will forever, heal my wounds.

- Defranco Sarabia