A rebel without a cause, Maia M.’s life has been built on snapshots of misadventures. Like a blemish on the photograph of her soul, addiction has marred her story. Not until she walked into the doors of Beit T’Shuvah was she finally able to begin the process of developing her new story. Her new self.
Hailing from New York City, Maia grew up on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. Her parents have always been loving (if not a little overprotective). This did not bode well for her rebellious nature. Rebellious… and free-spirited. “I’ve always had this thing—I wanted to live everywhere, experience everything, try everything.” The sheltered life her parents provided was in juxtaposition with the excitement she craved. “I remember reading a book about a heroin addict when I was in the seventh grade and thinking ‘I want to try that.’” She started experimentally trying weed and coke at the age of eleven. At fifteen, she attended an alternative school for music and art, but drugs got in the way of her academics, and she started to fall behind.
One summer, Maia went on a teen tour to Israel and immediately knew she did not want to come back to the States. Her aunt found an American high school in Jerusalem, which allowed her to remain abroad. Being in a country with no legal drinking age served her urge for danger. While at a kibbutz (a social living situation in Israel much like a commune), she drank so much lemon vodka that she made a “big scene.” Big enough to cause her family concern. Her second year in Jerusalem, and that overly-ambitious side started to rear its head and soon she was running off to Paris. Stranded in a foreign country, her dad came and rescued her, and before long, she was stranded at a boarding school in Upstate New York.
In a flash, her drinking and drug use only escalated. “I didn’t end up finishing that school because the day I was supposed to take the final test to graduate, I took a hit of acid… That didn’t work out very well.” Grateful Dead and the hippy life were Maia’s new calling; pot, pills, acid, coke—her new friends. She moved back to NYC, but her restless legs wouldn’t let her stay long. To deter her from getting on a Greyhound bus to California, her father convinced her to move to Venezuela and live with her cousin. There, she taught English, but addiction was her travel companion. She made a connection in Caracas that gave her a steady supply of coke. When her cousin discovered the white powder, she uprooted herself once again and went back to New York City—home base. She moved to the East Village and discovered the “heroin chic counter culture”. A friend asked her if she wanted to do heroin—something she had tried once before. “I don’t think I’ve ever said no.” Heroin would keep her company for over a decade.
A new geographic: Colorado. Away from heroin. Maia’s sister lived in Boulder and she moved with the intention of getting a place with her. However, a boyfriend she had met in a previous rehab attempt followed her out there. Soon, she was getting high and getting arrested. “It got so bad. I went to jail one time for a month, and when I got out, my sister had packed up everything, put my stuff in storage, and gotten a new apartment.” High and homeless, they travelled to Denver in pursuit of drugs. Living on the streets was a lonely life for Maia. Thankfully, things got so bad that it allowed for something addicts are familiar with: the gift of desperation. Something was looking out for her when she was on the street and ran into a man she had known in Jerusalem. He planted the seed of going back to treatment, and soon, after seeing him again, she was on her way to California and up the steps of Beit T’Shuvah. Well…for the first time.
In 2004, she stayed here for sixteen months. “It was an amazing experience. I had been to a few rehabs before that point and a million detoxes. This place was unique because I needed that long-term treatment.” After she left, she got a job as an administrative assistant for the LA Jewish Symphony. She went on to get four and a half years sober. But that same ex-boyfriend who followed her to Colorado made his way to California, and she relapsed. One overdose and a six-week run later, and she was checking herself into another treatment center. She went back to work, got on her feet, and started attending meetings again. Eventually, putting together a new year of sobriety. After going on state disability for a year, she started drifting away from her community and the meetings she had been attending. Soon meth entered the picture. She found herself back at Beit T’Shuvah yet again, but only for two months this time. “I just wasn’t ready.” Working at the BTS Thrift Store, she took some GHB and overdosed. When she woke up in the hospital, she ripped out all IVs and headed for the door—back to her old life.
Maia bounced around from place to place. She lived with a friend for eight years. Lived in a warehouse in Canoga Park. Eventually, she stayed in hotels (when she could afford it) or on friends’ couches. Or worse, relying on men (for a price). This was a cycle she would be stuck in for many years.
Finally growing tired of the picture her life had become, she reached out to a sponsor she had during a previous stay at BTS. Between her old sponsor and a friend who had gone through the house years prior, they convinced her to come back to Beit T’Shuvah. They put her in contact with Janet and Carrie in Alternative Sentencing, as she had two warrants. When she walked back up the steps of 8831 Venice Blvd, she only intended to stay for a month—that was four months ago.
This time, Maia is approaching her stay at Beit T’Shuvah with a new willingness and openness. After years of lost passion, she now walks the halls, camera in hand—photographing both for her own artistic exploration and for her internship with the Film Department. In addition, she is a new cast member of Freedom Song, our longstanding travelling musical.“That’s one of the amazing things about Beit T’Shuvah. It’s not just a rehab… if you want it, they help you pursue the things you’re passionate about.” She values the length of the stay here and the support she’s finding in her community. The spirituality of the program has also been a huge part of her recovery process. “Growing up, we didn’t really have religion.” She’s taking the B’nai Mitzvah classes here and learning to read Hebrew. She acknowledges that part of her drug use was in search of a spiritual connection. Her time here is showing her that she can reconnect to her Jewish roots. “When I came here before, I don’t think I had that spiritual awakening. But this time I did.”
Maia sees life through a new lens. Recovery in a new light. Spirituality from a new angle. The photo albums of her life show a woman who has traversed the world and, even more so, the world of addiction. Now she’s becoming the picture of what Beit T’Shuvah represents: passion and purpose.
A rebel with a cause. A redemption with a calling. A recovery with a camera.