My parents separated when I was six years old. I was left with my mother. She found a new partner who turned out to be an alcoholic. By the time I was 10 years old, I had decided to leave and live with my grandmother.
I lived however I wanted there, with no limits at all. I hung out with different people, mostly older kids. I started smoking when I was eight or nine, and by the time I turned ten, I was experimenting with soft drugs.
We stole things, got into fights, and committed crimes. That’s how I ended up in prison for the first time at age 14, serving a two-year sentence. But after my release, nothing changed. I continued acting aggressively, getting into fights, and hanging out with criminals. At twenty, I was sent to prison again, this time for drug-related charges.
After some time, I met my future wife and had two sons with her. Once I realized I had a family, I gradually distanced myself from the criminal life.
During this phase of my life, I moved to Israel. I had the chance to start over with a clean slate, but I didn’t take it. Nevertheless, I have always believed in God. When you’re in prison, you realize that you have no one to turn to but Him. At that time, however, I wasn’t a truly devout person yet.
My wife and I started arguing constantly when we were faced with huge debts and frozen bank accounts. After a while, I found out that she was cheating on me. In a fit of jealousy, I got into a serious fight with her lover and ended up back in prison—only this time, it was in Israel. It all ended in divorce.
The hardest chapter of my life came next: fentanyl. I met a guy who used hard drugs, and I tried them for the first time. I didn’t think anything bad would happen, but after just one time, I became an addict for nine months.
Two cars, my belongings, my tools—everything went toward drugs. I was already so addicted that I forgot life could be different.
At some point, I just got tired of living. Everything around me was in ruins, and I couldn’t put it back together. I started using more drugs and withdrawing into myself. I often prayed to God, saying: “Take me because I can’t go on like this anymore!”
I had no idea what to do. Around that time, my mom was hospitalized after having two strokes. I went to live with her since I had nowhere else to go. At night, I would wander the streets and sometimes steal to get money for drugs. I realized I was addicted, but being so deep into this lifestyle made me feel completely hopeless.
Someone advised me to seek government-funded rehabilitation. They didn’t let me in there, demanding a long list of mandatory tests I had to take. Even tho I only had an hour before my next fix, they wouldn’t admit me.
One evening, I ran into an old acquaintance. He recognized me even though I was gaunt, unkempt, and scary—completely unlike my former self. I told him what was happening to me. He suggested that I reach out to the “Living Israel” church, which helps people in need of rehabilitation.
At first, I didn’t take it seriously. I was already so disillusioned with anything offered to me that I just wanted to end my life. But in 2023, I finally went to rehab—I was in terrible shape.
On the third day, I was practically losing my mind—screaming and on the verge of breaking everything surrounding me. Thank God for the brothers who came to see me, prayed for me, and supported me. I believe the Lord heard their prayers. He Himself wanted to pull me out of the dirt I’d gotten myself into.
My soul and my heart desperately longed for freedom; freedom from drugs and from my entire former way of life.
After eight agonizing days, I began to feel better. I was transferred to a recovery home, where I met Alexander Petensky and Pastor Veniamin. There I began my journey with God. At first, I didn’t understand everything yet and wasn’t fully aware of my new life.
I attended meetings and prayed with the brothers, but gradually began to see that the Lord was truly changing me.
On September 11, 2023, I repented, was baptized by water, and decided to follow the Lord.
