Estimated read time: 4-5 minutes
This archived news story is available only for your personal, non-commercial use. Information in the story may be outdated or superseded by additional information. Reading or replaying the story in its archived form does not constitute a republication of the story.
SALT LAKE CITY — Steven Glenn, 53, was celebrating his 107th day of being clean. He had spent 41-years of his life battling addiction to heroin and eventually fentanyl. He said he was first introduced to drugs at age 12.
"It was scary at the age of 12 on, having to go from a happy, carefree child to having to take care of my brothers and make sure they went to school, to steal from stores to make sure that they got fed," said Glenn. He watched both of his parents struggle with addiction, and then he started using drugs more and more.
He ended up on the streets without anyone in his life who could help him find a different way.
"I've been dealing with those demons for so long, it's just become natural. It's a way of life," said Glenn. But it is a way of life he wants to change. That is why he is at Odyssey House and on the path to recovery.
Salt Lake City, like many other urban centers, is dealing with the pervasiveness of fentanyl and its tragic human cost.
"We see the effects of this evilness every day on our streets in Salt Lake City," said Salt Lake City Police Chief Mike Brown. "And yet we know this problem is not exclusive to the metro area. No community can isolate itself from the constant flood of increasing availability of illicit drugs."
Calling fentanyl the most dangerous drug on the street, Brown said most of the fentanyl the department sees comes from Mexico and is cartel-made. The goal, he said, is to chase it from dealer to supplier to cartel. He referenced a recent arrest the department made of an individual in possession of more than 25,000 fentanyl pills.
"Anytime you take drugs and profit, and put it into a situation where there's money involved, it creates violence," said Brown. "It does. And that's the sad part is the cartels, they don't care how deadly these drugs are, how deadly fentanyl is."
No community can isolate itself from the constant flood of increasing availability of illicit drugs.
–Salt Lake City Police Chief Mike Brown
No community is immune to fentanyl, and Brown said Salt Lake City cannot arrest its way out of fentanyl use. "I think the thing to remember is that addiction is an illness. It knows no socioeconomic boundaries; nobody is immune to it," he said.
Brown said having services available for those struggling with addiction is critical. Salt Lake City has numerous recovery options, including Odyssey House, a residential substance abuse program.
At its downtown Salt Lake City location, the Deseret News sat down with Glenn and four other men: Leonel Padilla, 31, Gabriel Goldner, 44, Francisco Campos, 42 and Chase Markus, 35. All of them have a story to tell about how they became addicted to drugs, started using fentanyl and ended up at the Odyssey House on the path to recovery.
'A life that isn't defined by my addiction'
Glenn has lived on the streets. He described fentanyl as a shameful experience. "I've already had to live with the fact that I'm a junkie, and to be associated with that crowd made it even more dirty for me, a lot of regret," he said, adding the pills only made him well enough to take on the next morning.
As Glenn has reflected on the past four decades, he said he realized he has a need to belong to someone or something and to know that he is worth it. It means a lot to him anytime someone listens to him, to his story. He spent the past 41 years in addiction and 26 years in prison.
"I lost who I am," said Glenn. "The morals and values that my grandfather taught me, I brushed them aside and became someone else." He cannot count the number of family members and friends he has lost. His three daughters grew up without him. But Glenn says he has come to himself again.
"I've been able to find myself again and realize that I have worked and that I am somebody that has a life that isn't defined by my addiction anymore," he said.
This is his fifth time in recovery, and without a strong support system, he said it is difficult to keep going — to believe that he is worth it.
"You try to go to church, and people look at your tattoos and they turn and walk away. Nobody caring enough for the next person," said Glenn, adding not having family support can amplify the difficulties.
"People do not know how to offer that (love and attention) to an addict because they're afraid of what they see on the news or what they hear, what they read in the newspapers or what they hear from other people," said Glenn. "It makes it hard for us to be OK with ourselves because of what someone else thinks about us."
Right now he does not feel worthy of forgiveness for the wrongs he has done in his life. He said he used to make meth and hurt many people. "The pain, the heartache and the grief that comes along with what I've done in my life, in the 41 years that I've been an addict, that's why it's so hard for me to forgive myself."
"I want so much to be able to say I'm sorry to the individuals that I've hurt by the choices that I've made."'
