Jason Buddington had just picked up his bottles of methadone for the week, and kept an eye out for temptations that could threaten to return him to a life on the streets.
Buddington, 35, grew up in New Haven. He spent over 10 years homeless in the Hill as he battled addiction. Now he returns to the Hill — and what he describes as its continual street-level lures — as he seeks to rebuild his life in the suburbs.
“It’s always been like the wild, wild west out here,” Buddington said at the corner of Congress Avenue and Daggett Street after his weekly Thursday morning pick-up at the APT Foundation clinic.
“One thing that being homeless for 10 years taught me: Life is beyond cheap. I’ve seen people bump shoulders out here and turn around, and have their heads blown off.”
The 35-year-old shared on the “Word on the Street” segment of WNHH FM’s “LoveBabz LoveTalk” program that he is still very much connected and well-known to those he met while living on the streets. He said that he’s been staying out of trouble but the temptation to dance with the devil is still very much alive.
“I used to sleep in bandos [abandoned buildings] and go into dumpsters just to eat,” Buddington said. “There’s still a lot of people out here that I’m still friends with, and I just feel bad because I see them throwing in the flag.”
Times got so bad for Buddington that he refused to even sleep in a shelter. He would rather sleep in the streets because he discovered that people staying in the shelter would rob each other. At one point someone with whom he’d gotten into a beef poured gasoline on all of his belongings.
Recently, he landed a job and place in Branford, he said. He said he wants to still spread awareness about drugs, street violence, and death based on his personal journey.
He said he was inspired to try to change his life after his girlfriend of three years, Mandy, gave birth to his first child, a baby daughter who is now 2.
“I was the poster child for homelessness,” Buddington said. “If I can make it out, anyone can make it out. But it’s about how bad you want it. Shit ain’t just gonna fall on your face.”
Buddington has been visiting the APT Foundation on Congress Avenue regularly for five years now to receive methadone. He went into the program thinking it would help to change his life. Two months ago, he asked the clinic if he could transfer to another location to receive his dose. Ideally, he would like to attend the West Haven location to stay away from the temptations of the Hill, which gnawed at him even as he spoke Thursday.
“I pulled my counselor to the window and said, ‘Look out the window. You see all of those people out there. They’re waiting for me to walk out of the door .and they’re going to throw the shit in my face,’” Buddington said. “Never mind about being homeless. There’s nothing but drugs out here. There’s nothing but trouble out here.”
Not only was Buddington refused a transfer but he said the clinic also refused to lower his dosage. The temptation hasn’t been easy for Buddington. He calls it a purgatory. Now, he has no other choice but to face it while collecting his methadone bottles every Thursday.
“But if I ask to go up on my dosage, not even in five minutes — they’ll bring you up,” Buddington said. “The system is broken.”
Buddington said that one day the clouds lifted, and he asked himself what he was doing with his life.
His next goal is to attend school in hopes of becoming a drug counselor to save lives, he said. He said that it would be a victory if he could even save just one person from the streets.
Based on what he has seen and experienced for himself, he said, he understands why Newhallville residents have organized to fight APT Foundation plans to open another methadone clinic at 794 Dixwell Ave.
“There’s people smoking drugs while parents are walking their kids to school, that’s why. They already know what’s coming with it,” Buddington said. “That’s why I say, ‘The clinic is waiting for me.’ They’re going to capitalize off of people to spare. Misery loves company.”
APT Foundation has responded to complaints by saying it can’t control what happens outside its property.
“My friend and I were actually just talking about this morning, how years ago somebody got stabbed and killed to death in the entrance way of the clinic,” Buddington said. “They could have stopped it. He bled out and died right there. My point is — do you know what security did? And this is on their property? Nothing.”
At one point, the violence was getting so bad outside of the Congress location, he noted, that a cop had to sit in the parking lot to monitor what was going on.
“It’ll never end,” Buddington said. “Because if the cop is on the left, everyone is just going to go right. You get what I’m saying? It’s never going to stop. It’s a vicious circle of death.”
As long as there are people out to buy drugs, then there will always be someone out there to fulfill that need, he reasoned. Even if three people are arrested and taken off the streets, others will instantly replace them.
Buddington also stated that plenty of people attend the clinic to get an extra high off of the methadone in combination with whatever other drugs they are doing.
“I honestly am on methadone to stay away from the other shit. But I’m not going to lie, methadone is just as bad on its own,” Buddington said. “If I get clean and off of the program, then that’s one less person paying the clinic.”
His former counselor, Jason Crowell, was among the people who have given him needed support through the program, he said. Crowell was the chief driver of the SWAN van, which distributed clean needles and other help to people on the streets who wrestle with addition. He died due to an overdose after having an unfortunate relapse, Buddington said. He said that was proof enough that only he can face his demons for himself.
“He was a good guy,” Buddington said. “But it shows that the temptation is there. You can’t get away from it. You have to get away from it.”
Buddington said he was a kid when he first got addicted to drugs, through one of his best friends. He started with a percoset pill and other painkillers.
“I got addicted to them. It’s so strong that it’s got you from the jump. I don’t give a shit what anyone says: The second you do that and feel that high and then you come down — it’s over. It’s got you
“I used to get them 15 bucks. Then they went to 20 bucks, then $25, and then $30 a pill,” Buddington said. “I was like, ‘Holy shit, I can’t afford this.’ It was like misery in a pill.”
He became addicted to heroin, for years. He became so desperate to get off of heroin that he even took a Vivitrol (Naltrexone) shot, which is known for having one of the highest dosages that “will last for 30 days” in order to wean people off of the effects of opioids, he said.
But still up to this moment, he continues facing his demons.
“To go full circle, I finally realized that nobody is going to help me, but me,” Buddington said. “Think about it. My own counselor was getting high. So how are you going to help me when you’re getting high?”
What works for one person, might not work for the next, he noted. Buddington said that it “took forever” to get clean off of heroin. He said that there’s so much truth in the old saying that “every day is a battle.”
While the interview was conducted, many folks walked by Buddington and dapped him up. It’s clear how well known he still is on the street. He said that’s why he only comes to the area when he needs to get his bottles from the clinic.
“Even now, where we’re at,” Buddington said, as he looked around the street — “in the back of my mind, I’m seeing everyone walk around. Even if you talk about it — it’s not your fault, but you just planted that seed in my head. How can I grow when you’ve planted the seed of destruction in my head? Now I want to go and do something stupid.”
For Buddington, it’s almost a guarantee that if he sticks around the area long enough, he’s going to end up doing something to bring him back to his past.
“If it was that easy to get off of drugs. then there wouldn’t be no such thing as addiction anyways,” Buddington said.
Buddington has signed back up to take classes at Gateway.
“All addiction takes is two seconds. I want to better myself. You have days when you come out here and it brings you right back to square one,” Buddington said. “That’s why I want to become a counselor. Nothing is getting changed. I want to make that change.”
Then he said goodbye and walked off into another day battling demons of temptation.