When we launched The Reckless Saints of Nowhere in 2015, we had absolutely no idea what we were doing. Zero. I was fresh out of rehab at a long-term treatment facility, and when I returned home, nothing looked the same. All I could see was a community in pain. The opioid epidemic had torn through the heart of America, and ‘overdose’ had become a household word. Everyone I spoke to said the exact same things.
Someone they knew, a friend or family member, was on drugs and had lost control. Jails were full, homes were destroyed, and families were suffering. People began asking me how I got sober and if I would talk with their family member or friend who was on drugs. You could see they wanted to help the addict, but no one knew how to do that.
So I started giving my phone number to anyone who was suffering. A simple gesture. If you or someone you know is lost in addiction, call me. Any time. Day or night. I will do anything I can to help. It blew up. Soon I had so many people wanting me to help them get clean that it didn’t take long to notice the problem. Resources. If the addict wished to get help for their addiction, they had to pay outrageous entry fees to be accepted into Rehabilitation and Treatment Programs that didn’t work.
In most cases, the addict and their families had to come up with as much as $25,000 to qualify. In return for the thousands paid, the addict would be admitted to 30-day Treatment Facilities that had about a 3-4% success rate. It was insanity. The recovery system was bleeding families dry and still offering no help. Nobody knew what to do. Out of this confusion and chaos, Reckless was born.