Ron Sanders was 5 when his parents divorced, and that same year, his mother lost both her parents. He remembers it as a chaotic time with his sister, 10 years his senior, largely taking care of him before moving out when Sanders was around 8 years old. Most days with his mom, a schoolteacher, at work, he learned to cook for himself and otherwise manage on his own.
“I give her credit, she did the best she could,” says Sanders, now 54. “But there wasn’t a lot of hands-on.”
A Troubled Youth
Sanders describes himself as a “clown,” often getting into mischief. He started pushing boundaries, lying to his mother and acting out in school. At 11, his mother sent him to live with his father, a retired Army officer, in Tampa. Soon, Sanders began smoking marijuana and drinking. His father turned violent and began physically abusing Sanders.
“My family didn’t believe me when I told them my dad’s beating me,” says Sanders. “So my mom came down to get me, to take me back to Birmingham for the summer. And he actually hit my mom.”
Sanders, then 15, returned with new knowledge of drugs and fell in with a crowd involved in psychedelics, marijuana and drinking. At 18, his drug use escalated to cocaine and ecstasy, and he began selling drugs to friends. As a musician involved with bands, this lifestyle felt normal.
“Everybody was doing it,” says Sanders. “And that was what was crazy about it, is that it just felt normal. And it made me feel superior because I was the one [who] had the supply of everything.”
The Opioid Trap
At 23, Sanders married and later had a daughter. He worked in construction and occasionally partied, but mostly stuck to marijuana. After his relationship with his first wife ended, Sanders moved to Austin, where he spent time working in hospitality at a high-end restaurant where he met the woman who would become his second wife. The couple eventually moved to Dallas, where Sanders worked as an estimator for a construction company. He suffered a severe back injury that required back surgery and the insertion of screws and rods in his back. This was a turning point.
“When they started giving me prescriptions, that was it,” says Sanders.
For the next 14 years, Sanders used a mixture of benzodiazepines, amphetamines and opiates. His insurance allowed him to get “anything and everything I wanted.” He calls himself “a walking pharmacy for a long time.” He was high-functioning for years. Until he wasn’t. Eventually, Sanders lost his job. His second wife, who was battling postpartum depression, fell ill and her family moved her and their two sons to Massachusetts. Sanders soon followed to try to put his life back together.
A Brush with the Law
After a period of sobriety, Sanders relapsed. He got involved with a man whose mother worked for a doctor and had access to prescription pads. Sanders began filling fraudulent prescriptions using his doctor’s ID number. He eventually quit, knowing he and his accomplices would be caught. When they were, Sanders served a year in county jail.
“It was a wake-up,” says Sanders.
While in jail, his wife left him. Sanders was released homeless onto the streets of Boston. He entered a halfway house and started medically assisted treatment (MAT) with Suboxone, which he says has been a lifeline medication for his sobriety.
New Purpose
At 44, after his sister passed away from cancer, Sanders moved back to Birmingham to be with his mother. He met a woman and fell in love, but another injury led him back to pills, destroying the relationship. At 47, Sanders committed to recovery. He completed a six-month program at the Salvation Army. He then moved to Sober Living America, where he worked as an intake coordinator. He relapsed again, but eventually found his way to the Fellowship House in Birmingham, where he got back on Suboxone and completed the program.
He continued his journey, becoming a recovery coach at Jimmy Hill Mission, teaching classes, and mentoring men in recovery. However, living in subsidized housing where drug activity was rampant led him back to dealing. One night, the apartment next door was raided by the DEA. Fearing he would be implicated, Sanders “made a break for it.” He left everything he owned — furniture, car — and took off with just one bag.
“My mom said, ‘I knew you were serious when you left every bit of everything that you owned to get away from there and go change’,” says Sanders.
After another difficult halfway house experience, Sanders relapsed again, but immediately checked himself into the hospital and then a rehab in Mississippi. That was the last time he used.
Finding a Place
Sanders is now the executive administrative assistant at Door to Serenity recovery center in Mobile, Alabama. He works with the director, managing three houses and supporting residents. He credits AA, his sponsor and the MAT program for his recovery. The medication Suboxone helps Sanders manage debilitating pain from that long-ago back surgery, as well as subsequent work injuries, and to prevent cravings.
“It makes me level,” says Sanders. “I’m not chasing a feeling. I’m not chasing a high.”
Sanders plans to become a Certified Recovery Support Specialist and mentor others, finding immense fulfillment in his work.
“I know this is what I’m supposed to be doing,” says Sanders, emphasizing the importance of remembering rock bottom. “If I start forgetting how that was, then I’ll go back out. It’s probably one of the hardest bites that I’ve ever had to endure. But my worst mistakes don’t define me, yet they’re my greatest asset now that people can learn from my mistakes. And I can say, ‘Hey, I know where you’ve been. I get it’.”
