JACS

Expanding the healing

Elana Epstein shares her family’s narrative of recovery in Today I Will Be Fearless. (photo from Elana Epstein)

When Elana Epstein and her husband, David, confronted the reality that their son, Noah, was an addict, her life shifted on its axis.

In her emotional, practical, moving book, Today I Will Be Fearless: Rising Through My Son’s Drug Addiction, Epstein shares her family’s narrative of recovery, while digging into complex related issues like intergenerational trauma, societal silence and stigma, and finding purpose, resilience and power in the darkest moments of life. In the process of writing and sharing her story, Epstein has found new meaning and mission for her life.

“Writing the book was how I got better, deepened into my own recovery and saw the pattern of what recovery asks of us,” the Vancouver mother of three adult sons told the Independent. “And, the deeper I went into the story, the deeper I uncovered the gems of the why I was doing things.

“This is happening for more than just my own son’s healing,” she said. “It’s my healing.”

She took her son’s recovery as an opportunity for her own self-understanding and improvement. The book, though, intends to expand the healing.

“It’s for a wider community,” Epstein said. “I was determined to be a channel for whoever needed support and a companion along this journey because people do this alone.”

Epstein, a yoga teacher, reiki master and spiritual practitioner, had long understood the language of healing. But addiction, she said, stripped her of any illusion of mastery.

“It felt as if everything I had learned was a waste because I did not know my son was struggling with addiction,” she said. “It felt as if the tools were more of a hindrance than a help. But quickly my spirit reminded me the tools I had were the ones that would support me to get through this if only I could go deeper with them. That was the pivotal moment of my knowing I could and would get through this.”

She also realized that Noah was not the only one who needed to adapt to changing realities.

“I took the lens of recovery and turned it onto me and took the opportunity to delve into the 12 steps and see where I needed to release myself from the clutches of my ego and some of my ancestral teachings or just threads that were hanging around,” she said, adding that she began to see the impacts of intergenerational trauma.

“I needed to peel back the layers and see that I was codependent and I was a people-pleaser and I didn’t know how to love myself well enough – all while my son is learning to do the same thing.”

Several months into Noah’s recovery, Epstein broke her leg while skiing. She took it as a sign from the universe to step back, focus inward and accept help.

“Maybe four days after surgery I was at home. I was sitting on the couch and I was feeling really sorry for myself. What has happened to my life? Isn’t it enough? How many more things … COVID and Noah and the war. And then I break my leg and I hear immediately, ‘You are going to write your book.’”

There has always been a book in her, Epstein said. She just didn’t know what it was going to be about. Now, it became clear.

“This is my story, how I got through the journey of loving my son through his own addiction,” she said. “So, I started just journaling, and one thing led to the other and, a year later, I had a blueprint.”

As the book came together, she realized the writing process was no longer just for her own healing. “This was how I was going to show up for people,” she said.

Among the self-doubts she had to overcome was the realization that she has wisdom to share.

“I would say things like, ‘in my opinion’ and ‘in my humble experience,’” she said. “That was classic Elana. I started to accept that I actually do know what I’m talking about and there’s no reason to hold back and let’s go and let’s be authentically who we are.”

It turns out there was a demand for the wisdom of someone who has been through what Epstein’s family has.

“Although I had a desire that this would be a companion, I couldn’t have imagined it would be this well received … not just by families who are wading in the waters of addiction and recovery, but by people who are curious,” she said. “People are telling me this is a blueprint and a companion for life. One woman just said to me yesterday, ‘I keep you by my night table and, every once in awhile, I just pick it up and I read a sentence and it’s my teaching for what I’m struggling with in my own life.’”

Finding light in darkness is a recurring theme in the book.

“When bad things happen, people look for the reasons and they look for the why. And they definitely want to blame something or somebody,” Epstein said. “You don’t have to do that. You can accept what happens as a gateway to becoming and connecting to a version of yourself that is more beautiful than you can ever imagine and stronger that you can ever imagine. Stop being afraid of the potential things.”

Her family’s Jewishness infuses the book.

“My message to the Jewish reader is this book is filled with mystical wisdom that can guide you to a more peaceful existence one day at a time with what is coursing through our blood and bones,” said Epstein. “I had the vision early on that I was going to be a part of bringing more awareness into the Jewish community because we have lost too many. Many children and too many people suffer in silence.”

When Rabbi Josh Corber took over the Jewish Addiction Community Service and Jewish Family Services took the group under their umbrella, Epstein discussed how she might contribute to the work.

She took the lead on running a group for families navigating a member’s addiction or recovery. She said she hopes that the book might land in the right place, just when an individual or family needs to hear her message.

“If that person can pick up my book, then we’re living that old adage that the Talmud teaches: if you save one life, it is as if you are saving an entire world,” she said, “And I truly believe that.”

The holidays à la JACS

Rabbi Joshua Corber leads JACS’s Purim gathering at Omnitsky Kosher on March 1. (photo from JACS)

JACS’s holiday programming initiative kicked off with Purim at JACS, held at Omnitsky Kosher March 1. While Jewish Addiction Community Services’ focus is on families and individuals, the initiative, which is sponsored by the Betty Averbach Foundation, shifts the emphasis toward community reach. By using major Jewish holidays as entry points, it aims to reduce stigma, build awareness and create meaningful pathways for individuals who would not otherwise engage with addiction-support services. Jewish ritual, learning, recovery-aligned reflection and opportunities for social connection are offered in an inclusive setting.

“Our goal is to change Jewish holidays from potentially isolating or triggering experiences into powerful sources of dignity, belonging and spiritual empowerment,” said Rabbi Joshua Corber, director of JACS.

An alcohol-free event – which is especially important on Purim, notorious for excessive drinking – Purim at JACS combined a traditional meal with a deep dive into the Megillat Esther. The purpose was to discover the recovery wisdom encoded in the story of Purim. Corber led the event and focused on a commentary on Esther known as the Mechir Yayin.

Penned by the Rema, Rabbi Mosher Isserles (Krakow, 1530-1572), the Mechir Yayin offers a unique interpretation of the story as an allegory for “the days of one’s life from youth until old age.” It focuses on the human struggle with one’s emotions and their material cravings, which evolve into the pursuit of morality and wisdom. This narrative tracks well with the trajectory of recovery, not only from substance abuse, but from many behavioural and emotional disorders as well.

“The Rema is known mainly for his important halakhic commentary on Shulchan Arukh. In the Torah world, he’s a pretty big deal. So, the fact he quietly wrote such a profound commentary on Esther is wild,” Corber said. “You will never see the Megillah the same way after learning it…. Addiction is a spiritual disease, and these events cement my theory that the spiritual lessons of Judaism and the spiritual messages of recovery are one and the same.”

Many who attended Purim at JACS reported being profoundly impacted by the Rema’s message; others felt relief at having found a supportive space for themselves within the Jewish community. To connect with JACS, go to jacsvancouver.com or call 604-416-4164.

– Courtesy JACS

An uplifting moment

Vancouver hosted the largest convention in the city’s history over the weekend. About 50,000 members of Alcoholics Anonymous descended on the convention centre and BC Place stadium. Among the throngs was a booth representing Jewish Addiction Community Services – JACS Vancouver.

Rabbi Joshua Corber, the organization’s recently appointed director of addictions and mental health services, wanted the group to have a presence at the massive international confab. The booth shared information about JACS’s work, as well as literature from partner agencies in other cities.

For Elana Epstein, who attended the booth and greeted passersby, the experience was transformative – but not for the reasons she expected.

Epstein and her family have shared their journey with addiction and recovery openly, including in these pages (jewishindependent.ca/family-hopes-to-save-lives). She and husband David Bogdonov and their son Noah Bogdonov have become some of the most familiar faces in this community speaking about and advocating for awareness around addiction and recovery.

At a public event at King David High School last fall, the family shared the path they have been on since Noah began his recovery journey two years ago. The entire family has become engaged with this cause. Noah and Elana have both become professionals in the field – Noah recently moved to Calgary to launch a new recovery centre and Elana was credentialized and recently hired to lead JACS’s new family group, which began earlier this week.

But it was not recovery – or, at least, not recovery in the sense she anticipated – that uplifted her at the AA convention. It was the outpouring of empathy and words of encouragement she received from passersby to her as a Jew, and to the Jewish community more broadly.

A steady stream of people dropped by to peruse the information at the booth, but Epstein was deeply moved by the number who just expressed a few words of support for the situation Jewish people find themselves facing in today’s world.

This sort of acknowledgement is something that has been glaringly absent among her non-Jewish circles in Vancouver, she said.

“I personally needed it,” she said. “I haven’t felt that kind of outreach since the war started.” In one of her local circles, her experience has been quite the opposite.

Since Oct. 7, 2023, at the latest, most Jews have probably, consciously or unconsciously, at different times and in different spheres, become aware of dangers and vulnerabilities when we identify ourselves in public. Any reservations Epstein had quickly evaporated, leaving her “completely surprised.”

“Tears,” she said of her response. “Overwhelming gratitude. I really didn’t expect this and it is a beautiful thing. A really beautiful, heartfelt thing.”

There were other surprises – a lot of non-Jews subscribed to stereotypes that addiction did not exist in the Jewish community. For Epstein, though, it was the few words from a stream of strangers that raised her spirits.

Why did it take strangers from other cities to say the words she needed to hear? Maybe it is easier to speak with people you don’t know. By putting herself out there as a visible Jew in a primarily non-Jewish environment, she attracted the goodwill of people who wanted to share expressions of kindness. Are people who deal in addiction and recovery more sensitive to the pain of others? Is there some other explanation?

We would like to imagine this was an indication that the world is kinder than some recent evidence would suggest.

For one thing, there is a simple phenomenon: haters are loud. The chanters who march through the streets condemning Israel (and often Jews) are few but extremely vocal. Their stickers, spray-paint and graffiti might suggest numbers greater than they represent.

Empathy is quiet. Seeing a Jewish individual standing invitingly at a booth presents an opportunity for a few quiet words that maybe some people have been waiting to express.

It may be rare enough that it bears highlighting. It is still, though, a reminder that compassion abounds, often in places we least expect it. This is a small example – and just one – that modest acts of kindness have profound ripples.

As we enjoy the full bloom of summer, with its (hopefully) bright days and reinvigorating outdoor activities, we thought it was worth sharing that the world can be a more welcoming place than it sometimes seems.

We naturally share with friends our moments of disappointment and distress, seeking commiseration when the world lets us down. Remember also to share your moments of uplift, as this one individual chose to do. We need them.

Different kind of seder

Held on April 15, the Third Seder: Understanding Addiction and the Path to Freedom focused on the slavery of addiction. (photo from JFS Vancouver)

There was matzah, grape juice, charoset and horseradish on the table. Guests read from the Haggadah and enjoyed a meal of matzah ball soup, brisket and roasted vegetables. At first glance, you might think this was just another seder – but it truly was different from all other seder nights.

The Third Seder: Understanding Addiction and the Path to Freedom was held April 15, with Rabbi Joshua Corber, director of Jewish Addiction Community Services (JACS) Vancouver, at the helm. All the guests had something in common: they were people with or recovering from addiction, or family members of loved ones who have experienced or are still struggling with addiction.

“No situation is more similar to slavery than one’s addiction. Someone who has experienced addiction truly understands what it means to be a slave,” said Corber as he introduced guests to From Bondage to Freedom: A Haggadah with a Commentary Illuminating the Liberation of the Spirit, written by Rabbi Dr. Abraham Twerski (1930-2021).

“Rabbi Twerski, z”l, is an absolute giant,” Corber explained. “Steeped in Torah learning and Chassidus, he was a psychiatrist who specialized in addiction and, with this background, his ability to leverage Torah as a recovery tool is unparalleled. This is reflected in his Haggadah, but he also led the way for other Torah scholars.”

At all other seders, guests drink wine or grape juice, but at the Third Seder, only grape juice was on the table. Guests recited sections from the Haggadah that wrestled with concepts like liberation from addiction, and how family members could deliver “tough love” by setting boundaries. They expressed their pain and shared their stories with candour.

“Slaves to addiction tend to think recovery isn’t possible,” said one guest, who introduced himself as a recovered alcoholic.

Corber agreed. “I thought addiction was my life, and that I needed to tolerate it,” he confessed. “I was held down by inertia because addiction was the only life I could imagine. In some ways, it was like I was already dead.”

The guests at the seder, which was held at Reuben’s Deli by Omnitsky, ranged in age from 22 to 80. Some were still wrestling with active addiction, while others had been in recovery for lengthy periods. Together, they formed a community of support that was inclusive and devoid of judgment.

“Addiction is a family disease and having a community for recovery is amazing,” one guest declared.

Corber echoed those sentiments. “A goal of JACS is to get the whole community behind the cause of supporting Jews entering recovery or coming out of addiction and, so far, that’s been missing,” he said.

There remains a stigma surrounding addiction, particularly in the Jewish community, Corber said. “There seems to be a reluctance to discuss the matter openly in the community and we have to break this stigma. Addiction is not a choice, it’s a disease. And, while most of us acknowledge this, it has not fundamentally changed our attitudes. Jews who are struggling need to feel supported and accepted by their Jewish community.”

Corber said the Third Seder will become an annual event, and more programming is being planned for Shavuot and other Jewish holidays. For more information, visit jacsvancouver.com.

Lauren Kramer, an award-winning writer and editor, lives in Richmond.

JACS and JFS integrate

Jewish Addiction Community Services (JACS) and Jewish Family Services (JFS) have accepted bylaw changes allowing for service integration, in order to expand addiction support and services within the Jewish community.

“JACS and JFS have a long history of collaboration in serving our community, and it just made good sense to form an even tighter relationship that leverages the relative strengths of each organization,” said Howard Harowitz, JACS board chair. “This move is driven by a shared commitment to improving service delivery, integrating substance use services with other supports, and utilizing the established expertise of both agencies.”

The strategic rationale behind this integration is clear: combining resources will enhance service effectiveness and accessibility, ultimately creating a more significant impact. This aligns with JFS’s long-term vision of becoming a leader in social services.

“This integration aligns with our strategic vision to enhance our service portfolio and provide more holistic support that meets the needs of our clients,” said Tanja Demajo, JFS chief executive officer. “We are excited to embark on this new chapter of community service together!”

This integration will provide the community:

• Increased accessibility to addiction services for clients and their families.

• Enhanced capacity to serve a greater number of individuals in need.

• A holistic approach to addressing clients’ diverse needs.

• Greater community awareness of where and how to access addiction services.

For more on the resources and services JFS provides, visit jfsvancouver.ca.

– Courtesy Jewish Family Services Vancouver

Value of community

When we hear about addiction and recovery, most of us might think of the incredibly difficult journey to achieve and then sustain sobriety. For certain, this is one reality.

That said, it’s one thing to refrain from using, and quite another to rebuild one’s life. One of Jewish Addiction Community Services’ clients told us that, although they have been in recovery for three years, they felt that their life had little meaning. Working together, we uncovered the “missing link”: their prior lifestyle had damaged, and in some cases severed, many of their connections to family and community. More importantly, that insight led to building some practical plans for reconnecting. They now report that they feel like they have turned the corner – rediscovering motivation for work, life, and being an active member of our community.

Another client, who had been using drugs for over 25 years, is now seven months sober. They recognize that Judaism’s role in their early life was important, and reconnecting to some aspect of that former life is comforting and familiar. This client attended a seder for the first time in many years and looks forward to the High Holidays.

It is no secret that community plays a crucial role in sustained recovery. The harder part is to operationalize the insight. Our role at JACS is to meet people where they are, help them find treatment, if needed, work with them to rebuild their lives, and be a link to the greater Jewish community. At the very practical level, we have helped clients connect with Tikva Housing, access the Jewish Food Bank and get financial help from Hebrew Free Loan Association. As well, working with rabbis and other agencies, we are helping individuals find ways to reconnect with a Jewish social network, support systems and the community at large.

JACS is proud that we are here to help our community. It is gratifying to know that, through education, counseling and connection, we are making a difference for those who need to know they have value and do indeed belong.

For more information about what we do, visit jacsvancouver.com.

Shelley Karrel is manager of counseling and community education at JACS Vancouver. She can be reached at [email protected].

Talking about addiction with L

Jewish Addiction Community Services (JACS) estimates that one in six members of the Jewish community in Metro Vancouver – or more than 4,000 people – are in need of support for dealing with substance use disorder. And yet, it is a topic that many of us find hard to talk openly about.

“I grew up around alcoholism in the home. There was shame in the family that dad had a drinking problem, and it affected my childhood, there is no doubt,” said L, who had the courage to speak with the Independent about their experience with alcoholism. “My dad was an angry drunk and he’d be embarrassing in public. He didn’t show up for commitments and didn’t turn out to be a very good father. I got to the point where I didn’t count on him because I couldn’t, and I resolved that with myself at a young age.

“Yet, there was a part of his life that was enticing and rather exciting for me,” added L, now a sober member of Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) and a participant in JACS Vancouver. “When my father would pick me up on a Friday night, we would head to the bar. I thought it was something fun, better than my boring life at home.

“I would be excited to play the bar games and drink Shirley Temples, but I was way too young to be in that environment, way too young to have my views shaped by those experiences.”

Although these tavern trips took place when L was in junior high school, they considered it normal. “I didn’t realize there were no other kids in the bar. It seems weird to me now that no one objected,” L reflected.

L grew up in an environment where Judaism was not talked about much, either. “There was already a stigma within a stigma. There was a great shame about being Jewish. Being Jewish was rarely discussed, the same way Dad’s drinking was rarely discussed. Both topics became elephants in the room.

“I think what I draw from that experience is that I really believe the disease of alcoholism is genetic; it seems to run in families,” L said. “All I needed was that environment to stir up that excitement. My dad had a full wet bar at home, and I just loved it. I was drawn to it like a magnet because I associated it with fun Friday nights when Dad took us to the bar.”

L’s father’s drinking led to L’s mother divorcing him when L was 5. There remained trauma within the home – matters that were not openly discussed – and alcohol presented a means “to take the edge off.”

L established their own relationship with alcohol and began drinking and using drugs as much as possible.

“I was the perfect rebellious child,” L said. “I found ways to drink – whether stealing it from my parents’ liquor cabinet or sneaking out at night to hang out with older kids to drink. I used to hide it in my room. I kept a mason jar of whiskey in my closet.”

As L’s dependence increased so, too, did their obsession to drown out reality. “In high school, I would sneak out to drink and do drugs. I would put a trashcan beside my bed so I would have a place to throw up when returning home. This way, I wouldn’t risk waking my parents, because my bathroom was right next to their bedroom. I was pretty far gone by high school. The more I drank, the less I was interested in life around me. I dropped out of school and then left the house at 16.”

The reliance on alcohol remained for another 10 years. Family members disassociated themselves and L eventually sought help. By the time L “hit bottom,” a phrase used in AA to describe the lowest moment in an alcoholic’s drinking experience, they were “unemployed, suicidal and physically dependent on alcohol to function on a daily basis.”

“I didn’t fashion myself to be that bad, yet I didn’t have any friends left,” said L. “No social network, I was very isolated. I didn’t leave my house anymore. I didn’t check the mail. I couldn’t even go to the grocery store without being drunk or high. I ended up going to a counselor, who thought I should go to an AA meeting. I thought that sounded horrible; I was only 26. AA sounded like it was for a bunch of old men and winos who lived under a bridge. However, my counselor said, ‘It has to be better than the way you’re living now.’”

Though there were struggles initially in attending AA meetings, L picked up a desire chip (sobriety coin) in August 1997 and has not had a drink or drug since, recently celebrating 25 years of continuous sobriety. L remains active in AA, and sponsors others who are looking for relief from their alcoholism.

AA, though it often holds meetings in churches, is a non-denominational program. “I am very steeped in Alcoholics Anonymous and that’s my central connection with sobriety,” L said. “It wasn’t until a Jewish friend in AA told me about JACS that I was able to reconcile my long-standing concern with the Christian side of AA.”

After attending some JACS meetings, L felt relieved that they could talk openly about their Judaism, which had been a sticking point for L in AA. Through JACS, L was introduced to the book Twelve Jewish Steps to Recovery, by Rabbi Kerry M. Olitzky and Dr. Stuart A. Copans.

“Just reading the foreword to that book helped me better understand that AA’s founder, Bill W., was only using the God of his understanding, which happened to be based in Christianity, to write the outline for sobriety in the AA literature.”

This realization was a profound moment for L, since they always “railed against [the Christian] part of the AA program,” saying “that never felt right.”

“All of a sudden,” L said, “I realized that AA wasn’t Christian at all, only Bill’s concept of his higher power was. AA allows me to choose the concept of my own higher power, which is based in Judaism.”

Becoming more involved with JACS has opened a whole new perspective for L, which was not found in AA meetings alone. “I couldn’t be more grateful for finding this missing piece of the puzzle at JACS and for the continued support of Shelley Karrel, who runs the Vancouver chapter,” said L, who attributes this shift to becoming more involved in the Jewish community and reconnecting with their lost Judaism.

“I would not have had this spiritual awakening without being more connected to my community and being introduced to JACS,” L said. “Being able to finally connect my sobriety with Judaism feels like coming home for me.

“When I think about my father’s demise – a sad and lonely alcoholic death – I know that could have been my fate as well. There isn’t a day that goes by without being reminded of where I came from and how grateful I am that I survived. I did not have to die by suicide, or alone with a bottle hidden away in my closet. I was given a new life. A sober life.

“Thinking about drinking is the furthest thing from my mind today,” said L. “It used to be the only thing I thought about 25 years ago. The obsession has been removed. I am completely safe and sound when it comes to alcohol now, as long as I stay active in AA and keep on the path of spiritual growth.”

For more information on available resources and support – within and beyond the Jewish community – visit jacsvancouver.com.

Sam Margolis has written for the Globe and Mail, the National Post, UPI and MSNBC.

Judaism and addiction

When we think of Pesach, the theme that emerges is: “We were slaves of Pharaoh in Egypt, but the Lord brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand.” As slaves, we endured years of torture and hardship, with no choice but to obey the edicts of the Pharaoh. In essence, we were powerless. Those addicted to either drugs, alcohol or a behaviour (think gaming, gambling) are slaves as well. They are chained to a disease that has control over their lives – their brain has been kidnapped into thinking “this is what I need to live, to survive.” They no longer have freedom. Often, the notion that they can break free is beyond what they can envision.

When the Jews left Egypt, their days in the desert were a struggle. Some wondered why they left what they knew for the unknown. Yet, here they were. With manna for food, a cloud for protection, they wandered for 40 years: a long, hard journey to learn how to live with their new-found freedom.

When someone initially breaks the chains of addiction, the struggles they face are no less daunting. There is fear, a sense of loss; a feeling of, will this work? Can I be successful? Will I be better off? In essence, they can feel like they are in a desert.

To assist individuals in the precarious time of new-found freedom, JACS Vancouver has launched the Sustaining Recovery program: a wrap-around service that supports clients with individual counseling, assessment and program planning.

Working with our client, we together build and implement a personalized set of supports and tools that focus on where they are in their journey, and what specific supports they need. When the opportunity arises, we help them focus on identifying the forces, triggers and/or messages that are beneath the surface of their addiction. They learn how to make different choices, where to go for help and how to recognize that life is better, health is possible.

The path to freedom, as our ancestors found out, was not easy – nor is it for those wanting to sustain recovery from addiction. With personal willingness and commitment, and solid and constant support, success and a purposeful life is within reach.

Shelley Karrel is a registered clinical counselor, and is manager of counseling and community education at JACS Vancouver. For more information about JACS, contact [email protected].

Help repair the world

I am flipping through one of my social media outlets, as I lie on my bed, cuddling my 7-month-old baby to sleep. A picture catches my eye. Garbage strewn in front of a restaurant. I look closer, puzzled as to why someone would post a picture of garbage. Then I see. Discarded needles littered amongst the garbage. I read the accompanying message. The poster says that we need to relocate addicts to a secured facility in the north. Provide them with drugs and food and medical care, but we need to get them off of our streets.

I scroll through the comments. I cringe as I read them. I see posts such as, “These people,” “Get them off of our streets,” “Decided to act against societal norms,” “Until they wish to act like proper citizens,” “Undesirables” and so much worse.

The poster is Jewish. Many of the people commenting are Jewish.

My mouth drops open. I take a sharp breath and feel a pain deep inside of me. My heart hurts. I want to cry. My hands shake. It takes all the strength I have not to respond. I am hurt and angry. I shake my head in pain.

I am a recovering alcoholic and drug addict. I haven’t had a drink or a drug in a little over 20 years.

Yes, I am one of those undesirables. So is my husband. My mother and some of my best, most cherished friends.

I was 25 years old when I found recovery. I am one of the lucky ones. I never lived on the street. I didn’t do needles. I didn’t have to experience that kind of bottom, but what being in recovery has taught me is that I am no different than those who live on the streets, than those who inject themselves with needles. Because I am an addict. Once I use, I can’t stop.

The American Psychiatric Association classifies addiction as a complex brain disease that is manifested by compulsive substance use despite harmful consequence. I have a brain disease. I will drink and drug even though it causes harm to me and those close to me. Once I use, I don’t care about anything else. I have a disease that I have to live with and battle for the rest of my life. It is painful. It is a struggle. Some days are easier than others, but the fact of the matter is, I have to live with a disease that can return at any moment. Like a person in remission from cancer.

Does the Jewish community not want me or my children because I am an addict? Am I less of a worthy Jew because of my disease? What about my children? Even as I write this, my heart is beating fast, my breathing is shaky. I think of v’ahavta l’reacha kamocha. I think of how we, as Jews, are commanded to love the stranger who dwells among us, to have one law for the stranger and the citizen, to never embarrass our fellow human beings in public, and to guard our tongues and speak no evil.

Where is the love of humankind when we classify human beings as undesirables? Where is the humanity in suggesting that we take human beings and put them into remote locations, away from civilization? Is this starting to sound familiar? Perhaps like the Shoah? When Hitler classified us Jews as undesirables? Did those Jews have a choice as to whether or not they were classified as Jews even?

I have a disease. I did not choose to be an addict. I did not know, when I drank my first drink and smoked my first joint that I would end up addicted. I was a kid. I did what almost every other teenager did. I experimented. None of my friends from high school are addicts. I am. I got it.

Addicts come from all walks of life. They are your teachers, your lawyers, your doctors, heads of companies, celebrities. They are also those living on the street and leaving their dirty needles behind. Addiction doesn’t discriminate based on your ethnicity, your socioeconomic status or your religion, yet we, as a community, want to believe that addiction doesn’t happen among our tribe. I can tell you that it does. I can also tell you that there are many Jewish addicts and their families who are afraid to come forward precisely because they are afraid that they will be looked down upon and judged as morally impaired. As undesirables.

This, to me, is morally reprehensible. We, as a community, need to act with love. Let’s help repair the world that we live in so that we can love and support all people, even when they are sick with a disease that we don’t understand. It is our duty as Jews. V’ahavta l’reacha kamocha and tikkun olam. Love your fellow as yourself and help repair what is broken.

Amanda Haymond Malul is a JACS (Jewish Addiction Community Service) Vancouver supporter.

Drugs and teens

When we hear the word addiction, it often conjures up negative images or stereotypes. We might think someone has made poor choices, is down and out, or weak-willed; we might think that it’s a problem confined to the Downtown Eastside. Rarely do we think of the word disease or think of addiction as a mental health issue.

Jewish Addiction Community Services (JACS) is committed to providing opportunities for the community to learn together and, on April 4, JACS and the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver youth department are presenting a community forum called The Fentanyl Crisis: How It Affects Our Teens. This free event, geared to parents, teens and youth workers, is designed to help build awareness of illicit drugs, specifically fentanyl, and to teach how these drugs affect the teenage brain, and how to talk to teens about drugs.

According to a B.C. Coroners Services report, which was published last month, 86% of fatal illicit drug overdoses in 2018 occurred inside (i.e. not on the street) – 58% in private residences. The majority of these deaths were men between the ages of 19 and 59.

While the problem of addiction in British Columbia is well known, what is less well known or acknowledged is how our Jewish community is affected. In fact, denial that the problem exists is more the reality. Rabbi Shais Taub, a specialist in addiction and spirituality, who visited Metro Vancouver in 2012, said one in 10 people are touched by addiction – whether directly or through a close family member. It makes sense that those statistics are similar in our community.

Compare the reaction of when you hear about a friend who has recently been diagnosed with cancer, or another debilitating disease. While we may not know how to help, when a loved one is affected with a life-altering illness, we are usually motivated to offer assistance, whether it is making meals, visiting or giving money to a cause. In sharp contrast, addiction tends to push us away and we tend to blame the person who has a substance use disorder, instead of wanting to rally around and help them.

Why does a family feel shame and the need to shield others from knowing their loved one is affected by the disease of addiction? Why does the person themselves feel the need to hide? Clearly, the answers are complex. In a recent visit to an emergency department, a patient pleaded with a nurse that “no one in my community must know I am here.” That person was a member of our Jewish community. Not only are people struggling with an illness, but they often can’t reach out for help or don’t know where to turn.

We must and can work to reduce the stigma of addiction so that both families and people with addiction are supported. It begins with awareness of resources and education, with fostering a culture of being less judgmental, of being curious and open, and being willing to talk about how someone may have found themselves suffering from addiction. We also need to remind ourselves of the Jewish values of teshuvah (repentance), tikkun olam (repair of the world), community and chesed (loving kindness). People knowing that there are resources available, when they are ready, is key to recovery.

The April 4 community forum includes panelists Dr. Alana Hirsh, a physician working in the Downtown Eastside; Lee Gangbar, a registered nurse who works both at St. Paul’s Hospital’s emergency department and as an outreach healthcare nurse; and Anne Andrew, a parenting coach and author. To attend the forum, RSVP at eventbrite.ca (Fentanyl Crisis). For more information on the program or JACS, email [email protected].

Shelley Karrel is the manager of counseling and community education with JACS. She has her master’s in clinical counseling, is a registered clinical counselor and also has a private counseling practice. She can be reached at [email protected].