Even before he was old enough to understand what addiction really was, Ryan felt its effects.

“I had a fairly normal childhood,” he says. “But I have a father who’s an alcoholic. So I grew up with alcohol being a strong presence in the household.”

Growing up in East Vancouver with a big immigrant family from Scotland, Ryan’s early years hold fond memories of camping trips, but there was always a dark cloud of alcohol abuse lingering overhead.

In school, Ryan struggled.

“I had a lot of behaviour problems,” he says. “I struggled with ADD and ADHD, and ended up getting kicked out, being suspended. And the teachers, I guess they thought I was ‘troubled’ so they kinda pushed it away, put my desk in the hallway, and I lashed out.”

In high school, Ryan turned to drugs, beginning with marijuana “but it slowly progressed to acid.”

“I was skipping school a lot, and I ended up being expelled for trafficking marijuana.”

Ryan took some time off, but credits his mother for not giving up on him.

“My mother really wanted me to get an education. She has been my support through thick and thin, and she started paying tutors to get me through distance education. She just wanted the best for me, and in the end, I graduated.”

Ryan’s relationship with his father, however, was “not so good. He was basically abusive, physically, mentally, just the way he was raised, he brought that on to us (kids).”

Ryan’s older brother also fell into addiction, but later became a role model and has been clean and sober for over 10 years now.

After graduation, Ryan was hired by a security company patrolling Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside. Unfortunately, the environment was high risk for someone progressing in their own drug journey.

“I was using cocaine at that point,” he says. “And down there I got introduced to heroin, crystal meth, crack cocaine.”

Despite his drug use, Ryan managed to hold onto his job for several years until a woman he had befriended “ended up being murdered.”

Because of his relationship with the victim, Ryan was investigated by the police until he proved his innocence, but to this day her murder is listed as unsolved.

“After that, I was using really heavily. I lost my job because I couldn’t hold it together. The addiction just kept spiralling.”

Without employment, Ryan started “easing into crime just to feed the addiction. I was broke and my parents cut me off. They changed the locks and said, ‘We just can’t do this anymore’.”

Ryan continued to spiral down a dark path and “I couldn’t see a way out.”

His parents, however, picked him up and drove him to treatment in Coquitlam.

Unfortunately, short-term (30, 60 and 90-day) programs only kept Ryan sober for brief periods of time.

“After the relapse, I ended up homeless,” he says.

His mother tried again by getting him into treatment in Nanaimo. But when he finished the 30-day program, Ryan found himself with “nothing to support myself.”

With nowhere to go, he turned back to drugs and crime until he managed to get into another short-term recovery program in Campbell River. There he met the woman who would become his wife and mother of his child.

Life started to change for the better until addiction, for both Ryan and his wife, returned. They lost their house, custody of their children, and became homeless. Ryan ended up in jail.

“I had almost a spiritual experience when I was in jail,” he says. “Do I want to continue living this life? Because it’s nothing but suffering and pain. And everybody who loves me, they’re leaving and I’m going to be alone in the end.”

When he was released, Ryan entered New Roads, Our Place’s long-term therapeutic recovery community where he was a resident for nine months.

“It’s the best treatment centre I’ve been to,” he says. “I’ve been in treatment nine times, but nothing really worked until New Roads. They gave me the tools, education and supports to stay clean this time.”

Ryan now works at Our Place, and despite what he sees on the streets, he’s determined to make it work.

“I see a lot of pain and suffering down there (on Pandora),” he says. “I don’t see anybody happy. For me, it’s a reminder of where I don’t want to be.”