On January 9, 2024, Charlene awoke in her tiny home pod at Clinton Triangle surrounded by blurred faces.
Charlene’s friend, another guest at the shelter, held her body as she gained consciousness.
Charlene, 49, learned that she’d overdosed after injecting a “shot of clear” (Methamphetamine) that was, unknown to her, tainted with Fentanyl. Shelter staff acted quickly after finding Charlene, lifeless and blue, inside her pod during a routine wellness check. It took six rounds of Narcan and chest compressions to revive her.
“I believe that if I wouldn't have been in a shelter, I would probably be dead,” Charlene said in July, six months into recovery. “I wouldn't be sitting here right now.”
“Here” is Charlene’s 1-bedroom apartment in N. Portland with her dogs Charlie, and Valentine, one of Charlie’s rambunctious puppies. She’s clocking nearly full-time hours for Central City Concern, riding the bus from her apartment to the organization’s various facilities around Portland, where she does janitorial work and aspires to become a case manager or recovery mentor, to help others who have struggled like her.
“Living (at the shelter) for as long as I did after I got clean helped to give me the strength that I needed to know that if I can make it through all that, I can do anything,” Charlene said.
“Shelter saves lives.”
‘66 days’
Charlene first connected with Central City Concern in March during a Resource Fair at Clinton Triangle.
She was proudly 66 days sober by then.
More than a dozen local service providers and low-barrier employers set up booths for the event, which felt like a block party with the grill smoking, staff dancing to music from speakers and dozens of dogs frolicking about.
Charlene sat on the curb, holding her dog Charlie, a registered Emotional Support Animal she adopted while staying at the shelter.
“Just having her reminds me of why I wanna stay sober,” Charlene said. “I've got two sons, they're both grown up, but she's like the girl I never had. I know I need to stay sober, not just for myself, but for her.”
Charlene put herself into outpatient treatment and attended appointments three times per week, always being sure to ask for a copy of her Urine Analysis, eager to show the “negative” results to her care coordinators at Clinton Triangle.
Charlene’s substance use, exacerbated by trauma and mental health challenges, was a factor in the circumstances that led her to unsheltered homelessness nearly 20 years ago, when she entered a cycle of recovery and relapse.
From the day she lost her house in the winter of 2012, Charlene lived in tents or on the side of the road, with hardly anything to her name, she said, until July 2023, when she was contacted by an outreach worker while out at 122nd & Burnside collecting cans for redemption (her sole source of income to support the debilitating addiction).
There was a space available at the new alternative outdoor shelter across town, Clinton Triangle, so Charlene took up the opportunity.
While at the village, Charlene acquired an Oregon ID and Social Security card, common barriers for those experiencing chronic homelessness to access basic services.
“I wanna be able to just swim and not sink,” Charlene said in March. “I believe it's not the moments that define us or even how we handle them 'cause most of the time we're gonna handle 'em all wrong. It’s whether we learn from 'em and rise above that makes us who we are, you know?”
‘My hard work is paying off’
In early June, Charlene had a job interview with Central City Concern and learned she’d been approved for her new apartment all in the same week.
She was pacing the shelter site with excitement, proudly telling everyone who passed by. She tried on different outfits and practiced answering questions for her upcoming interview.
“It feels like my hard work is finally paying off,” Charlene said. “I'm nervous, but I'm a good nervous. I'm trying not to psyche myself out.”
“And life is good. This is what it means to be rich,” Charlene said, laughing. “I'm broke, but I'm rich. No high from drugs can beat this high.”
Charlene said she was able to stay sober in the shelter environment, despite others still struggling with substance use in her vicinity, because of the support and motivation from staff.
“I wanted to quit for a while…but I couldn't because I didn't think I had the strength to do it. And I didn't know where to start. It was being here that really helped me.”
‘If I can do it, anybody can’
In August, as Charlene settles into her new apartment, she finds comfort and normalcy in what many take for granted — misplacing the TV remote, assembling a new couch, and hanging a large framed piece of art in the living room.
She gets to cook whenever and whatever she wants. It’s one of her favorite things about having her own place. That, and a comfortable bed.
Most of all, freedom.
“It's all mine,” she said, looking around. “I know I don't own it, but I’m not being told what to do. I have the freedom to just live and be me.”
“It's everything I never thought I would have again… when you're out there (on the streets) and you're lost, you would never think in a million years that you would be where I'm at right now.”
Charlene’s apartment is a refuge, a place to rest after working long shifts for Central City Concern. She keeps track of her schedule in a small pocket calendar. She’s passed the probationary period and now qualified for full-time hours and benefits. And she’s saving a majority of her paychecks so that she can afford her apartment after the 1-year housing voucher expires.
Charlene takes pride in being able to pay her own bills.
“I've never been as happy working as I am now,” Charlene said. “I might be doing janitorial work, but I know it's gonna lead into something so much more amazing. I love my job. It's helping me be the woman that I wanna be. And I know I can be.”
And Charlene is still healing. If she could tell her past self anything, she’d say “You are worth it.”
“For a long time I didn't think I had a purpose. I didn't think I was gonna make it. I didn't think I was loved. I didn't think that I could survive. I was tired. I was tired of being tired. I was always searching for who I was. I spent my whole entire life searching and running to find this person. And I think I finally found her.
And for the first time in 50 years, I know who I want to be and what I wanna do when I grow up. And I know that I can actually achieve that.”
Charlene dreams of a future in which she owns her own home and car, and she’s helping others in their journey from the streets to stability.
“Because I want them to know that it is possible…And if I can do it, anybody can,” Charlene said. Because when you're out there (on the streets)… all you see is darkness…you become hopeless.”
“And now all I see is a light. Sometimes it feels so unreal that little over a year ago, I was walking in darkness and now the darkness is gone.”
Story shared with permission; based on interviews with Charlene in March, May and August, 2024.