LOS ANGELES (AP) — In a grimy alley behind a Los Angeles donut shop, Ryan Smith convulsed in the grip of fentanyl, his euphoria abruptly transitioning from moments of stupor to bouts of violent shaking on a hot summer day.
When Brandice Josey, another homeless addict, reached down and blew smoke at him in an act of charity, Smith straightened up and slowly parted her lip to inhale the steam as if it were the cure for her problems.
Wearing a grubby yellow “Good Vibes Only” T-shirt, Smith leaned against his backpack and dozed off for the rest of the afternoon on the asphalt, unperturbed by the stench of rotting food and human excrement that filled the air.
For too many people addicted to this narcotic, the drowsiness following a dose of fentanyl is permanent. The highly addictive and potentially lethal drug has become a plague across the United States and is wreaking havoc on the growing number of people living on the streets of Los Angeles.
Nearly 2,000 homeless people died in the city from April 2020 to March 2021, a 56 percent increase from the previous year, according to a report released by the Los Angeles County Department of Public Health. Overdose was the leading cause of death; more than 700 lost their lives as a result.
Fentanyl was developed to be an analgesic for severe pain caused by conditions such as cancer. The use of this potent synthetic opioid, which is cheap to produce and often sold alone or in combination with other drugs, has increased exponentially. Since it is 50 times more potent than heroin, even a small dose can be deadly.
It quickly became the deadliest drug in the nation, according to the DEA. Two-thirds of the 107,000 overdose deaths in 2021 were attributed to synthetic opioids such as fentanyl, the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention said.
The consequences of drug use extend far beyond the streets.
Jennifer Cataño, 27, has the names of two children tattooed on her wrists but hasn’t seen them in several years. They live with their mother.
“My mother doesn’t think it’s a good idea, because she thinks it will harm the children because I’m not ready to be rehabilitated,” Cataño said.
He overdosed three times and was in rehab seven or eight times.
“It’s scary to disengage from it,” she said. “Withdrawals are really unpleasant.”
Cataño wandered through a subway station near MacArthur Park, desperate for a bottle of Downy fabric softener and a Coleman camping chair he’d stolen from a nearby shop.
Drug abuse can be a cause or a symptom of homelessness. Both can also be intertwined with mental illness.
A 2019 report from the Los Angeles Homeless Services Authority found that about a quarter of all homeless adults in Los Angeles County had a mental illness and 14 percent had a substance use disorder. Only people who had long-term or permanent serious illness were included in that analysis. In a broader interpretation of the same data, the Los Angeles Times found that approximately 51% suffered from mental illness and 46% suffered from substance use disorders.
Billions of dollars are spent relieving homelessness in California, but the treatments aren’t always funded.
A controversial bill signed by Gov. Gavin Newsom could improve the situation by forcing people with serious mental illnesses into treatment. But they have to be diagnosed with a certain disorder, like schizophrenia, and being addicted alone isn’t enough to get treatment.
Help is available, but it is outweighed by the scale of the difficulties visible on the streets.
Rita Richardson, a field supervisor at LA Door, a citywide addiction prevention program that works with people who have been convicted of misdemeanor crimes, distributes socks, water, condoms, snacks, clean needles and flyers at the same hotspots Monday through Friday . She hopes that the fact that she visits her constantly encourages people to seek help.
“Then hopefully there will be a moment of light. It may not happen this year. The next one may not happen. It could take several years,” said Richardson, a former drug addict and homeless person. “My goal is to lead you from darkness to light.”
Parts of Los Angeles have become scenes of despair, with men and women sprawled on sidewalks, huddled on benches and slumped in squalid alleyways. Some curl up smoking the drug, others inject themselves.
Armando Rivera, 33, blew white puffs to lure addicts into the alley where Smith slept. I needed to sell some dope to buy more. Those who didn’t have enough money to support their habit hung around him, hoping to get a free fix. Rivera showed no mercy.
Cataño couldn’t sell the chair, but eventually sold the fabric softener to a street vendor for $5.
That was enough money for another moment of euphoria.
