How much have you lost to addiction? A friend? A family member? Nothing at all? Tyson W. knows the toll of substance abuse. Orphaned by addiction. Romantic partners lost. A family he watched devoured. Trials and tribulations that could never fully be captured. After everything, all of it, the greatest loss in his life was himself.
Born in Idaho, his family moved to the Bay Area when he was five. He’s the youngest of six by ten years, as his parents both had families before divorcing their respective partners and marrying each other. Tragically, when Tyson was only six years old, his father passed away from an accidental drug overdose. This didn’t stop his mom from continuing to use. “Growing up was pretty tough. On the outside, we always lived in nice neighborhoods and communities. But on the inside, my mom was just dying of alcoholism.”
In school, Tyson excelled and played sports, but at home, he lived in the shadow of his mother’s intoxication. His older sister did her best to step in and care for Tyson, as his mother got a DUI with him in the car. That’s when CPS got involved in their lives. His mother would use men as a means to an end, and Tyson started to spend less and less time at home, avoiding the blackouts and slow destruction of his home life. He discovered pot when he started high school, using it as both an identity and a way of avoiding his family. He and his mom made an uneasy agreement that as long as he stayed out of her business, she would say nothing of his pot use. He took shelter in the homes and families of his friends, seeing the more stable, traditional households they had.
Drinking wasn’t something that Tyson saw for himself, especially seeing the example of his mother. That is, until he took a shot of Patron on Christmas when he was 13. “It wasn’t like an ‘I’ve arrived’ moment. I didn’t get wasted or anything, but I remember liking it.” He brought liquor to a birthday party of one of his 13-year-old peers, becoming the influence that most parents warned against. It ended about as well as you’d think: kids got sick, some got in trouble, and many, Tyson included, got drunk for their very first time. The following summer, he was introduced to the older “cool” kids. Soon, he was drinking and partying like any typical teenager. Other drugs were introduced into the mix, and this continued until he went to college.
He attended a junior college, but his mother informed him he would have to start paying rent. Tyson instead decided to use the money he had saved up and inherited from his dad’s passing to move out completely. He dropped out of the junior college and moved in with his sister in Los Angeles, who had told him he could live with her for free if he went to school. This lasted all of two weeks before he decided to go his own way. “I was off to the races. I forgot about school, I had money, the guy I was with had money, and I was suddenly introduced to new nice things and a new lifestyle.” He got swept up in this newfound lifestyle and his relationship, which proved to be very abusive. Tyson was lost and looking for home.
Adrift, Tyson contemplated going back to school. Instead, he found a leasing agent gig through a temp agency, something he only planned on doing short-term to make some money. However, he was 20 years old, making six figures, and completely left to his own devices. “I really just had no one telling me what to do, no guidance, no structure.” He maintained the visage of a young professional while going out on the weekend and sometimes on the weekdays. His drinking started to take on a life of it’s own as his family started to point out that he was drinking to get fucked up and smelled like a hangover.
Tyson moved around the city a lot as he began working for different developers and companies. As he moved from neighborhood to neighborhood, he would find his local liquor stores and hangouts. “It turned into drinking around the clock. I was drawn to people that drank like me. I would never drink at work until I started drinking at work.” His regimen of substances barely sustained him—nicotine, Adderall, coke, weed, alcohol. Tyson even began to get into car accidents, totaling multiple cars. He realizes now that it wasn’t sustainable, but at the time, he was managing to hold it all together. All of the substance use and trauma he had gone through led to a stint in the hospital, the first of more to come.
Tyson had seen a therapist, who suggested that he quit drinking, but he chose not to follow this suggestion. When he was hospitalized, he lied to the doctors about his substance use and managed to convince them that his psychosis was unrelated. He got released and went back to his toxic lifestyle. He did manage to start taking care of his health, but for him, not drinking was not an option. However, he did cut back enough to consider it “manageable”. Then one day, he got a very formal call from an officer in Idaho informing him that his mother had passed away. “My first thought was, ‘Oh, I’ve got to get drunk.’” This would lead to another psychosis and another trip to the psych ward. After that, he managed to stay dry for 30 days. Only 30 days.
Once the drinking resumed, a friend and her family came to visit for the Fourth of July. Little did Tyson know that they were more informed in Alcoholics Anonymous than he was aware of. He ended up being the only one drinking that weekend. Fast forward—psych ward. Again. This was becoming a cycle he was desperate to quit repeating. He finally came clean to the hospital staff about his substance abuse and agreed to go to rehab. It was a nice private pay facility, and he’s thankful for what it gave him at the time. His priority, though, was to get back to work and his old life. He agreed to go to an intensive outpatient program in the evenings. Overwhelmed by his job, the outpatient program, and going out on weekends, he decided to follow suggestions and go to AA. He got the oldest sponsor he could find, thinking he would just leave him alone. Turns out, this sponsor was very hands-on and had Tyson working a strict program. But as time went along, he ended up relapsing, and he lost his job.
After a series of missteps (including flooding his sister’s house and staying on a friend’s couch), he wound up in a sober living. A new cycle would begin: sober up, relapse, wash, rinse, repeat. “I’ll get cute, I’ll sober up, and then I’ll go back out.” Each time, life would get harder and harder. “Every time I’ve relapsed, they’ve been short relapses, but my life has gotten significantly worse, every single time.” His last run was a three-day affair that ended with him getting kicked out of his sober living, not showing up for a job he was looking forward to, and his car getting repoed. So, he found himself yet again in another detox.
Tyson had heard of Beit T’Shuvah through meetings and acquaintances. At the detox, he met a man who raved about BTS. He reached out to his sponsor, who was in agreement that this was a good program and could be a good fit. He reached out to admissions, and soon he had a bed. Here, he has fully surrendered. “I’ve done enough research. I’ve relapsed multiple times under different circumstances, and each justification has proven not to be solid.” He’s been rebuilding his spiritual foundation. “I’ve heard things here at Shabbat that were synchronicities and reminders of what I’ve heard before. It just encouraged me to stay.” He’s found a higher power that can keep him sober. His mentality and perspective have shifted. The relationships he’s crafting have been a huge help in solidifying his gratitude and hope for the future. There have been challenges and difficulties he has faced while here, but he no longer feels the need to turn to drinking as his first inclination.
Interning with the BTS Thrift Store, Tyson has rediscovered his love for giving back and helping people. “I feel really good about being able to give back to the community, and I feel like I have a sense of purpose.” His days have become simple, and he’s content. He’s even planning on going back to school and wants to take on any position he can get at BTS. He’s looking forward to the future…maybe for the first time.
What have you gained in recovery? A friend? A family member? Nothing at all? In his addiction, Tyson dug into the molten dirt, hit rock bottom, and kept digging. Now, in recovery, safe within the arms of the Beit T’Shuvah community, Tyson has a life beyond his wildest dreams, a smile wider than he thought possible, and, for the first time in a long time, hope. But above all else, the greatest gift of his recovery was rediscovering himself. To see himself for the first time. To love himself. And speaking for the whole Beit T’Shuvah community, Tyson is someone we are all grateful to know.