Laurie Ishii and Daryl Bargy

Hi! My name is Laurie and I am 38 years old. I don’t want to go into too much detail about my childhood, but it is hard not to, because there are so many factors that influenced my life and made me who I am today. I was born and raised in Los Angeles, with my dad and mom and younger sister Tracy. I grew up in a middle class family, had everything (material) I could ask for. I went to a public school until high school, when my parents sent me to Catholic school, which I felt was a punishment, and I grew to rebel against all authority. In public school I had never taken a drink or done any drugs, but began doing both when I entered Catholic High. I had a guy who sat behind be in Religion class who was a cocaine dealer, and that quickly became my drug of choice.I left home and left school when I was a sophomore, ran with Asian gang members and eventually became one, stealing, fighting, going to drive by shootings and eventually getting shot myself. I was institutionalized for seven months when I was sixteen and spent my seventeenth birthday locked up. By the age of 20 I had only gotten worse, continued to get into trouble, getting into fights and enjoying it all the way. One night at a wedding reception held at a Catholic church, a rival gang shot me with a thirty-eight-caliber pistol. The bullet went through my left arm, through my side, just missing my heart, going through my liver, lung and diaphragm lodging in my back, _ an inch from my spine. The Doctor told me that if the bullet had been any closer to my spine I would have been paralyzed from the waist down. Another Doctor told me that I’d I would never use my arm again; the nerves were destroyed and didn’t even recommend physical therapy. (Praise God, I use it now Рnot 100% but enough)

That was the first time I stopped to think of my eternal destiny…what if I had died? But the thought quickly passed. I had too much to do to think about such things. By this time I was into more heavy drugs, especially meth-amphetamine and freebase cocaine. I didn’t concern myself too much with the gang activity anymore РI had married one of the leaders of the gang when I was seventeen and had his ‘protection’ even though we eventually decided to go our separate ways. (Another too long story)

I entered into the world of sex, drugs and rock and roll, literally. Going to Hollywood nightclubs every night, getting high and sleeping around. I hooked up with a cocaine dealer who (I allowed) to eventually control my life.

My life became unmanageable. I lived with three guys, and one of my roommates came home one Sunday and I thought he was high Рand asked him what he was high on. He told me that he ‘got saved’. I was immediately turned off and told him I didn’t want to hear about it. I had no knowledge of God or church except from Catholic school, which really turned me off. But I watched his life begin to change right before my eyes. It happened slowly, but noticeably. He also left little booklets about God around a big cocaine mirror I’d always use, and I’d end up reading them, even though I thought they were stupid at the time.

About a year after that, I myself prayed, alone, in my mother’s living room (she and my dad had divorced) asking God to set me free from drug addiction. I had gone with my mom to a twelve-step meeting at her church, where I heard a man talk about how God delivered him from heroin addiction. I also heard other people talk about the solution, not focusing on the problem, giving me hope. I had been to many twelve-step meetings where all people did was talk about drugs, making me feel like getting high as soon as I got out of the meeting, so this was different. They talked about serving God, and how He took away the desire to use away Рhealed them from the inside out. So I thought that if He could do that for them, why not me? So I asked, and He completely delivered me from my drug addiction, even cigarettes Рover night. I had no desire to use drugs or smoke anymore. I didn’t even know what being ’saved’ or ‘born-again’ was, but knew in my heart of hearts that if I were to somehow die at that moment, that I would spend eternity in heaven, with God. It was awesome!

In spite of this, I still had many issues to deal with. I was five months pregnant with a drug baby, trying the minute I found out I was pregnant to abort it but suddenly realized one day, when I felt the baby move, that I’d been trying so hard to kill a human being. I went through the pregnancy and gave the baby up for adoption, went through a Catholic Adoption agency, which was great. I began serving at church, and the guy I was dating at the time I got saved gave his life to the Lord a week after I did. We ended up getting married about a year later…against my own better judgment. What a huge mistake…I could talk about that for days…but I won’t, not now.

I got a job at a Christian bookstore and worked there for about two years. I also decided to go to beauty college and got my cosmetology license, working at a top salon in Santa Monica soon after. I was determined to be a top stylist, and began making very good money. Then I found out that I was pregnant. I was so disappointed. My career had just started to take off, and to put it plainly; I was too selfish to have a child. Once I had my son I was overjoyed, but I didn’t know how to cope with raising him. Soon after his birth, I was diagnosed with a muscle/joint disorder called Fibromyalgia, which causes terrible chronic pain and fatigue. The Doctor began giving me narcotic pain pills…big mistake. I didn’t tell him that I was an addict, because in my mind, I was never really ‘that bad’ Рnot as bad as some other people I knew. What a lie.

I quickly became a pill junkie, taking Vicodin and muscle relaxants Рeventually hustling four or five doctors and numerous pharmacies Рtaking up to 40 pills a day, and going through horrible withdrawals whenever I ran out. By this time, my life centered around seeing Doctors, getting pills, getting money to get pills, juggling pharmacies to get pills without getting caught filling prescriptions from different Doctors across town…and then one night I made the mistake of going out with my co-workers after work, to a local bar. I had already started smoking cigarettes again, what would be the big deal about having a couple of drinks? BIG DEAL. Someone like me has no business making ‘little’ compromises. They could kill me, and almost did.

After starting to regularly go to an old hang out, hooking up with old connections and coming home loaded, my husband told me one night after work that he was leaving me and taking our son with him. (I don’t blame him) I left that night, never to look back, except a few months later to get some of my belongings. I didn’t know how to cope. I had already hooked up with a drug dealer, and went to live with him. I began an almost six year run of drinking, dropping hits of ecstasy, doing speed, smoking crack and shooting heroin, dealing coke and eventually prostituting in order to support my habit once I lost my job after going to work ‘dope sick’ (sick from not having enough heroin). I could hardly deal with anything, especially being sober.

I had been dealing cocaine at the bar I went to every night, until my habit became so uncontrollable and unsociable. I couldn’t last for more than an hour before I needed to go in the bathroom and ‘fix’ Рit is difficult to have a social life once you become an I.V. user. Prostituting became the best option. I tried ‘boosting’ (stealing) for a while but there was always the risk of getting caught. I knew all of the ‘johns’ I went out with РI usually hooked up with them by a drug dealer, so it wasn’t as likely for me to get busted.

I’d already picked up two felonies, possession of heroin and cocaine Рand didn’t want to pick up another case for something stupid like shoplifting Рespecially because it was so rare that I was not carrying all of my works (drug paraphernalia Рwater, spoon, outfit, (hypodermic needle) rubber tie, cotton etc.) on me.

It seemed as if I was a regular ‘visitor’ to the L.A. county jail, Twin Towers. That place is an awful place to be. Depressing and FREEZING, always waiting, waiting to wait some more…’processing in’ was torment (took an average of twelve hours), even ‘processing out’ was a nightmare…every time I found myself there, I’d tell myself that I never had to come there again, if I just ‘got it right’. (Whatever that meant Рstopped using, or stopped getting caught?)

My judge, who is now my friend Рwas in charge of a drug program called Impact, and he did every thing he could to try and help me get on track. He’d send me to rehab after rehab after rehab…to no avail РI’d leave every one of them. I have been in Tarzana Treatment Center, American Hospital in Pomona, AADAP (Asian American Drug and Alcohol program) Impact, and others, which names I can’t even recall. My next stop was prison. The judge told me that he would have no choice but to send me to prison if I didn’t stay at the final rehab he sent me to once I was released from the County. I left after a few days.

During this whole time, I was with a man, Johnny Рthat I was deeply in love with, in spite of prostituting behind his back (it was just a ‘job’ to me Рdidn’t mean anything except for a way to make money)…I was terrified of being alone РI had already lost everything that meant anything to me, my family, my son, many friends, my job, car, place to live…I was afraid that I’d lose him too if I went to prison.

I decided that the best way to deal with my circumstances would be to end my life. I thought that I would take the risk of taking my life and the possibility of spending eternity in hell (suicide a sin?) since I was living a life of pure hell anyway. I had already tried to overdose (and had, numerous times) slit my wrists AND overdosed…even would’ve tried hanging myself had I known how to tie a noose…but I thought that a sure way would be to jump off the roof of my 8 story apartment building. I would sit on the fire escape on the roof and ‘fantasize’ jumping Рif I shot enough dope, drank, took pills…I’d have the guts.

One Sunday, after going to the methadone clinic in Hollywood and buying sixteen #2 Klonapins which are a very strong bezodiazepine (mind-altering tranqualizer or sedative used to help people to sleep or to aid in preventing seizures) that heroin addicts often use to try and ‘kick’ (come off the dope) from the guys who sell on the street outside the clinic. Johnny and I went to church, with the intent of trying to start kicking once we got home. We scored, or ‘copped’ a bag of dope on the way home (for our ‘last’ (yeah right) ‘bag’ or ‘balloon’ Рheroin usually comes in little balloons Рfirst wrapped in plastic or foil and put in the balloon and kind of ‘rolled’ up like you would roll a pair of socks and made into a ball, in case the cops come around and you have so swallow the bags/balloons so as not to get busted Рa person doesn’t want to swallow a bunch of dope if it’s not in balloons, because you could overdose. So putting the dope in balloons keeps them intact, won’t dissolve in your stomach, and later you can poop them out) we then each took one Kolonapin. Well apparently, after Johnny fell asleep (the pills put you to sleep Рwhich is the whole point, because you can’t sleep while coming off of heroin) I took the other fifteen pills. I had a horrible fear of being dope sick. Going through heroin withdrawals is living hell, throwing up, diarrhea, body aches, sweats and chills, burning eyes and running nose…I used to say that “I’d rather be dead that dope sick”, because I couldn’t stand the pain in my legs or the vomiting and crapping on myself. I heard later from a friend who saw me that night that I called her, took the train to her house, called my dope dealer who came over and gave me heroin and cocaine РI shot a bunch of ’speedballs’ (cocaine and heroin mixed and shot intravenously), had a friend drive me to the train station and took the train back home to the apartment…went on the roof, and jumped (?) or fell. I don’t remember a thing.

All I remember is waking up at Cedar Sinai hospital four days later, opening my eyes and seeing Johnny, asking him where I was. He told me, and also asked me why I did what I did. I didn’t know what he was talking about, so he told me: “Apparently, you jumped off the roof of our apartment building.” I was a bit surprised, but not shocked. I’d planned that out in my mind many times. He was very upset, to say the least.

I was only in the hospital for almost a month…I hit a tree right before I hit the ground below, and landed on my head, with major head trauma Рand some brain damage. I had to learn how to read and write all over again, and my friends told me later that they thought that I would be mildly retarded. My motor skills were all messed up too. I hadn’t broken any bones though, only fractured a few ribs. While I was in the hospital they had me on methadone Рa nurse told me that soon after I was admitted I was conscious, and began screaming that I wanted heroin, to “give me heroin!!!” So when I was discharged, after being on methadone the whole time I was in the hospital РI was still strung out. (Methadone is even harder to kick than heroin Рstores in your bones) I immediately picked up where I left off before I tried to commit suicide.

Less than a month later, at Johnny’s urging, I went to a Christian Woman’s Home in Pasadena, to try and kick again. Couldn’t sleep for nine days, ended up slipping and hitting my head in the tub (delirious) and went to the hospital. Again, about a month later, I tried to kick there again Рbut freaked out (tormented, heard voices tell me to jump again) and jumped out a second story bedroom window and this time broke my back. In the hospital again, and had to have a back brace/body cast made to wear under my clothes.

Soon after I got out, I went back to using, and this time, to support my habit, began panhandling and selling incense on Wilshire Blvd, a busy street in the LA business district. I met many people out there who wanted to help me. My life was so pathetic. I was so sick (and tired) of running, so I decided to turn myself into jail, and face the consequences, even if it meant doing prison time.

My judge was surprised to see me, and after my public defender told him of all that had happened to me, he didn’t want to take me into custody. I asked him to take me in; I had nowhere else to go. He didn’t want to take me into custody, but in his words, he had “every legal right to do so,” so he did.

Kicking (withdrawing from heroin) with a broken back was excruciating. They weren’t giving me any drugs in Twin Towers so I decided to take matters in my own hands, took off my back brace and jumped off the second tier in the dorm. (Drama Queen) Re-broke my back. (Ouch)

Sent to the thirteenth floor (jail ward) of the County hospital. During that time, the Doctors discovered that when the craniotomy was performed at Cedar Sinai, my head wasn’t ‘closed up’ right…there was a hole, one inch by 1/2 inch on the back of my head. You could see tiny screws and bone in the hole, and I should have returned to the hospital for follow up after the surgery, but that was not a priority for me with the way I was living. It was found that I had a full-blown staph infection that was going to my brain and would kill me if I didn’t get operated on in the next couple of days. So I was in the hospital (again) for twelve days, handcuffed to the bed the entire time. It was horrible, worse than jail. Couldn’t even go to the bathroom myself.

Once I was released, I eventually went back to using. I tried to stay clean, and did for a couple of months, but I couldn’t stay clean once I moved back in with Johnny. He loved me, and wanted both of us to stay clean, but it was too difficult when we were together.

Eventually things got worse and worse, and we finally agreed that the only way we would ever be able to get clean and stay clean, was if we separated. I decided to go to another program, and he was going to try and get clean at his parents’ house. We left our apartment and everything in it, without looking back.

I couldn’t hang at the program (but for a couple of days) and ended up leaving, going to downtown L.A., ‘Skid Row’ Рwhere I knew I could score some dope and ‘get well’. (People strung out (need heroin just to function) don’t even get high with just a little (tolerance) after a while Рthey need to do heroin just to get ‘well’ or ‘normal’ so they aren’t sick with withdrawals)

A lot went on while I was there in such a short time (I was only there for about a week) and it scared me. I wasn’t scared of the people, in fact I quickly made ‘friends’ and got along fine with pretty much everyone Рwhat scared me was that no one seemed to be unhappy where they were at Рin fact they even seemed ‘comfortable’. They had no desire to even get out of the mess they were living in. THAT scared me. I didn’t want to end up being comfortable too.

I ended up going home with a Christian home in Orange County that was out feeding hot meals one Friday night. I left a week later and went back downtown, to have ‘one last hurrah’ and that was when God spoke to me loud and clear. “Look around, Laurie. You’re going to die a junkie out here, anonymously (I didn’t have my I.D. with me) Рif you don’t turn around and serve Me.” I was so terrified; I knew that He meant business…I knew that He was giving me my last chance Р‘turn or burn, baby!’ I turned, and repented.

There are a lot of details I’ve neglected to share for lack of time and space, but I must share that I have been clean now for three and a half years. I give all the glory to God. I wouldn’t be standing here, alive and well, if it weren’t for my Lord, Savior, and best friend, Jesus Christ. I am now reaching out and giving back to the community I took from. I go out on the streets everyday, talking to people on the streets, telling them about the hope we have in Jesus Christ. I am bold, and unashamed РI figure that I did whatever I needed to do out on the street to get my dope Рhow much more should I be able to do anything it takes to serve my God? All I know is that people need Jesus, and how will they know unless someone tells them? I say like the apostle Paul in 1 Corinthians 9:16, “Yet when I preach the gospel, I cannot boast, for I am compelled to preach. Woe to me if I do not preach the gospel!” I want everyone to know that Jesus is not only one way; He is the ONLY way to salvation and a new life.

Since I’ve been clean and serving God wholeheartedly, I have been so blessed to lead many people to the Lord, including my now husband, Daryl.

I go out on the streets of the inner city and share Jesus with people. Daryl happened to be working as a artist at one of the Tattoo parlors on Hollywood Blvd. which is one of the places I like to go inside and witness to the artists and guys/girls that do body piercing. The first time I met him, I introduced myself, then immediately asked him if he knew Jesus. (I am ‘known’ to ask, “Do you know Jesus” Рcut to the chase, no use beating around the bush) He said, “Not personally” and we went from there. I shared with him what God has done in my life, and gave him some ‘tracts’ Рit was difficult to hold a conversation at his work because the music was so loud and other distractions. He accepted Jesus as his Savior on his own, at home, and told me a few weeks later when I saw him. He immediately started asking me what he could and couldn’t do Рone of his concerns was sex (what a guy) Рhe didn’t ever see himself getting married (he’d been married once and it was a nightmare) РI told him to first be concerned about his relationship with God, He’d take care of the rest.

There’s a lot more to this story, and I’d like to tell it all some other time when I have more time. I had been living at the Los Angeles Dream Center for over two and a half years. As my friendship with Daryl grew, God opened the door for him to move into the Dream Center also…across the hall from me a month before our wedding day. He had quit his job tattooing and the Lord blessed him with another job, driving a truck, with much better pay and with benefits (for both of us) too.

We were married August 28th, 2004. Our first kiss was the day of our wedding. It was so important to me that I (we) remain pure until we married, because I didn’t want to play with temptation. I knew without a doubt that Daryl was the man God gave me to spend my life with, so why play with fire? Waiting is a good thing. It would have been more tempting for me to kiss and stop there, than to not start kissing at all. I am so grateful that he respected my wishes and even supported my decision to wait during that time. It was SO worth the wait!

My dad gave me away Рhe’s been supportive of me since I’ve been clean and even before I got clean…(I was blessed to lead my father to the Lord a year after I got saved, before I went back out and backslid) Рand even my mother and sister (from my mom’s second marriage) Ashley showed up at the wedding. The last time I had seen them was when I was in Cedar Sinai in really bad condition. Ashley had begged me not to use drugs anymore and I couldn’t even look her in the eye Рcouldn’t make a promise I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep. It was a glorious day! My judge also showed up, and some other people who remembered me from when I was still tore up from the floor up!

Note: This was written in November 2004 РI changed my age (I’m now 38 years old) and Daryl and I are currently (July 2006) living back at the Dream Center. About three months before our one year lease on the house we were renting was up, we felt that God was calling us back to the Dream Center. After much confirmation, we gave everything up Рactually threw a LOT of stuff away Рand moved back here, from a little house to a very little ROOM!

Let me be honest Рit’s a little scary! We are NOT paid staff Рwe receive no income except whatever God’s people feel led to give us, or when we go and speak at a church or something and they give us an offering. We do not pay rent, which is a huge thing, but we still have bills like everyone else. (Phone, hospital/doctor bills, car insurance, etc.) Living by faith is quite a trip, in more ways than one!

God is faithful to provide for our needs. Being in the center of God’s will is what is most important. We love serving people and feel honored to serve God here at the Dream Center. It is a PRIVILAGE to be here, and we will be here until God tells us to go somewhere else…

Update: as of 12/10/06

We have finished our time at the Dream Center and we are in the process of trying to get our own 501c3 to start our own ministry. We have finished our time at the Dream Center and I spoke at the new church we are attending in Hollywood – REALITY LA www.realityla.com with Pastor Tim Chaddick. We are still talking to to some of the pimps on the phone or by text messaging – and things will probably pick up again after the new year. We have a group of people at Reality LA who are excited and supportive of our outreaches to the pimps and prostitutes and have many who are interested in coming out with us on outreach!