Learning the Language of Unconditional Compassion

At 4 years sober, I thought I understood everything there was to know about substance use. I thought I had the compassion necessary to be of maximum help. I had learned the language of abstinence, where everything between the first high and entering sobriety was dead space. Space where there was no solution, where if a person is harming their body every day, their holistic health couldn’t really be managed. Everything could be addressed once they just stopped.

I had no idea just how harmful that mindset was until the reality of loss at the hands of overdose hit close to home. When Mason Fults passed away at age 24, I learned about harm reduction for the first time. A foundation in his name was started by family and loved ones, including myself and several friends similarly to the Harlan Serenity Foundation, and proceeds went to the harm reduction organization that supported Mason in the short time he spent back in active use and that I now have devoted my life to for the past 6 years.

As I volunteered supporting harm reduction, building naloxone kits and safer sex supplies at home because there was no brick and mortar hub for the work we were doing at the time, I dove into learning a new, more compassionate language. It made perfect sense to me that people who use drugs are worthy of health and wellness, while society entirely rejects this premise, and by extension the concept of people who use drugs staying alive and free of injury and infectious disease. I was embarrassed that it took me so long to openly recognize despite my own lived experience.

I have seen the absolute best of humanity, plenty of triumphs and moments of vulnerability that I carry with me all the time. I see the results of chaotic drug use and recognize that I fight my instinct to judge and expect more than people are sometimes able to offer all the time. I can love fiercely and still be human, that’s what I’ve learned the most in these last few years. I have grown to love so many people who naloxone has saved on countless occasions, a regular occurrence because of an unregulated and heavily policed drug supply. I have seen so many people reduce risk behavior in favor of safer use, safer sex, and ownership of their health. I’ve witnessed those struggling the most receive access to supportive services necessary to live life more fully.

Sometimes I scroll over to Mason’s entry in our membership log just to say hi, and I feel a sense of peace knowing that these programs exist and that he was able to find it when he needed compassion the most. I wish I’d been there to love him as fully and unconditionally as I love the people I serve now, but I carry him with me as I do.