Renfrew – After two years of living on the streets, Bill Wilson can finally Renfrew County’s Mesa Initiative for putting a roof over his head and finding a safe place for him to call home. Now, not only is he fully recovered and four months sober, but also a steadfast self-advocate and the hero of his own story.

The County of Renfrew Paramedic Services Mesa Initiative has been helping people back on their feet since May of this year, and while the program is in its relatively early stages, everything has been going according to plan. County Paramedic Joe Hamilton has known Mr. Wilson for a little over a year, and in that time he’s gotten to know a changed man.

Determined to get back on his feet, the first step to his revival was getting sober and off the streets. Mr. Wilson spent two years unhoused before empowering himself and taking charge of his life, but he certainly didn’t do it alone.

Like most who’ve ended up homeless one way or another, Mr. Wilson’s road to recovery was long, winding and layered with hardships. The first step to his rehabilitation was the same for most in his situation, getting clean and getting away. Mr. Wilson went to the County’s Addiction Treatment System (ACT) to remedy his drug dependencies at the direction of Mr. Hamilton, who he’d met at The Grind.

After returning from detox, he’d already had a huge advantage. Now that he was in a better frame of mind, he was given a room at the Rocky Mountain House in Renfrew, courtesy of the County’s Addiction Supportive Housing (ASH) Program. He kept taking Mr. Hamilton’s advice until slowly but surely, he began returning to his old life.

“I just kept myself going. I didn’t give up. You’ve just got to keep going forward,” Mr. Wilson said. “The Mesa program helped me in so many ways. Of course, I wanted to help my friends, but I had to help me first.”

Mr. Hamilton said the homelessness crisis is a recurring cycle of relapse perpetuated by a lack of support resources. Mesa’s main objective is to break this cycle by getting unhoused people off the street and finding them a safe place where they’re not negatively influenced.

In turn, Mr. Wilson has become a living example of putting in the work and seeing results. He said as soon as their clients are of rehab, they’re sent to a number of transitional homes to protect against relapsing or slipping back into a life of crime.

“You’re surrounded by likeminded people who are also getting out or trying to get into rehab. So, everyone is in the same mindset of, ‘let’s not do drugs, let’s do better.’ It creates a greater success rate.

“As Bill (Wilson) mentioned, not everybody is successful the first go around. But we just keep trying and offering them chances because eventually it’ll stick,” Mr. Hamilton said. “Some people’s rock bottom is lower than others.”

Mr. Wilson was working in Toronto when he learned of his mom’s cancer diagnosis. Then living in Chalk River, he uprooted his life to look after her. He stayed by her side during her final days but ended up losing everything in the process.

“I camped there for a few years,” he said. “But you can’t go and not work for that many years and come back to something.”

Despite giving up his life for his mother, he said his family hadn’t shown much support for his situation. He was thrust into poverty and stuck on his own in the streets of Pembroke indefinitely.

Before The Grind’s warming centre was opened the following year, he’d go practically anywhere to stay out of the cold and get some sleep. With the high demand for emergency housing in the area, bank vestibules, tent camps and even cardboard boxes were all on the table.

“You can only couch surf for so long,” he said. “I just did what I needed to do to keep warm. Camped, tarped up. Whatever I could to keep the wind off. The wind is the worst. You had to have somebody awake to make sure everybody’s alright. Because you sleep, you freeze and you’ll die.

“It was horrible. I slept in cubbies on Main Street. All different areas. You attract cops and they make you move. You have nowhere to go,” he said. “People think it’s not hard, but it is; it’s terrible. You have to actually do it (to know).”

Barely making ends meet, he spent nights outside in the winter elements seeking food, shelter and allies he could trust. He said the people he encountered on the streets were mostly good, honest folks getting by like himself, while others were quite problematic and showed very little respect.

Security was and still is a luxury for Mr. Wilson, considering he got used to meeting people with nothing to rely on other than their survival instincts, some of whom ransacked others’ belongings regularly.

“It doesn’t matter what you have. If they can steal it, they will,” he said. “I’ve had almost all my stuff stolen.

“It’s a big difference coming from out there and being homeless and being around society. After a few years, they look at you differently. It gets hard on you because they look down on you.”

Mr. Wilson started using marijuana and amphetamines (speed) as a coping mechanism. Relying on the drugs to take the pain away, he developed an addiction, putting his physical and mental health in a downward spiral. He said his poor health, being unhoused and suffering from a Substance Use Disorder (SUD) went hand-in-hand, making for a trinity of interconnected adversity.

When asked how many friends of his he’d lost to Fentanyl alone, he only took a split second to reflect.

“Since Fentanyl? Probably over a hundred,” he said confidently. “It’s very traumatizing. Seeing your own friends die in front of you. I still carry around Narcan in my backpack. I have six of them. I bring one everywhere.”

Nowadays, between volunteering with the Renfrew Horticultural Society, planning his future lumber business and keeping his health in check, Mr. Wilson spends his time productively.

To find a free naloxone kit near you, visit www.ontario.ca/page/where-get-free-naloxone-kit. If you’ve been affected by the Opioid Epidemic, we want to hear from you. Tell us your story at leaderalex@nrtco.net.