Moriah Ulinskas

Ulises Antonio Larreynaga

 

I was born in El Salvador, in a small town called Sensuntepeque in 1973.

I came to San Francisco because my father had immigrated in the early 1980s and he brought the rest of us (me, my mom and sister) in 1989.  I was 16. I don’t remember exactly the building we first lived in, but it was at 21st and Florida. We lived there for one year. It was nice. Then we moved to 1380 Jessie Street, where the bridge was.

 

My father wanted me to go to school  but the thing is, I didn’t like going to school- even in El Salvador. When I got here, my uncles told me I had a choice: I could go to school or I could go to work, so I decided to work.  I went for a little bit to the school on Bartlett, just to learn English, and then I started working.

 

I started working in mailing services, when I was 17 or 18. I did it on and off for about 15 years. It was a business owned by Filipinos and I was the only Latino.  The lady who owned it owned a restaurant called the Freeman House, and at first I tried working there as a busboy but the owner thought it was too hard for me, so she suggested I go work for her husband at the mailing center.

 

When I started working at the mailing center I started meeting people, going out, and I started drinking too much alcohol- then I started calling in sick.  Then I stopped going to work.  I was drinking so much I couldn’t stay at home anymore because my parents didn’t want me in the house if I was drinking.  I started staying with friends, sleeping in cars, sleeping on the streets.

 

One time I was so cold, it was 4 in the morning and I found an unlocked car and got in it to sleep. It was by the Cala Foods near Silver and I was with a friend.  We didn’t even know the car was stolen.  The police were checking the car, because it was stolen, and they found us, but they let us go when we told them that we didn’t steal the car- we were just looking for a place to sleep.

 

After a while I got tired of living like this and I went back to the mailing services and they gave me my job back, but then I started drinking again and lost my job again. This went on like this for 15 years. I kept coming and going. I think my boss understood because he was also an alcoholic.  They also let me live there when I needed to, when I go tired of being on the streets. There was maybe five people living there.

 

I never went back home, I never had my own home.  There were moments where I found girlfriends and would moved in with them, but then they would really get tired of me drinking. Maybe they thought I was going to change, but I didn’t.

 

I lived mostly in the Tenderloin. I liked it because there were so many liquor stores around. It’s like a party, there’s lots of people around and  easy to find friends to drink with. I lived on O’Farrell, near Larkin. Sometimes I lived on the streets, sometimes with friends. All those people are gone now. Some got deported, some are dead from drinking.

 

A doctor told me my liver was really bad. I’ve seen some of my friends die from drinking and it’s really terrible- the bleeding.  It's been almost four years already that I slowed down drinking. I want to live longer.

 

When I was drinking I would ask people for money on the streets. When you’re drinking you don’t feel embarrassed to ask for money. When I felt like there was nothing else to do, or I’d get tired of living like this, I’d go back to Mailing Services and I’d go back to work and it would feel good.  I’d go for like six months working and saving money.

 

And then sometimes I’d get bored and decide “I’m going to go look for my friends again.”  I’d think it would just be for the weekend, but once i started drinking I’d keep going and then I’d be sick and couldn’t go to work Monday, and then I didn’t want to call because I knew my boss knew why I wasn’t there. I knew he would be angry at me.  So I’d stay on the streets drinking until I’d run out of money and go back again.

 

There were sometimes I did drugs, but I didn’t really like it.  But then I got very sick, I was bleeding, I thought it was my liver. They couldn’t stop my bleeding from my nose, my gums. I didn’t want to believe it was HIV. They wanted to test for HIV and I said “No,” I didn’t want to be tested, I didn’t want to find out.

 

I went home and I was spitting blood into a bucket, I couldn’t sleep, I had blood coming from my mouth, I was bruising easily. It was 1997. I decided to go get tested and that’s what it was.

 

I was shocked. They told me I had to start treatment right away and I did. It was amazing, I started with one pill and the bleeding stopped, but the drinking did not.  I think now that maybe it was an excuse, maybe with the relationships with the ladies, too, I was making excuses for drinking.

 

I never missed my pills, but I would take them with alcohol at the same time.  The doctors told me I shouldn’t be mixing the pills with alcohol. I had to be open and tell them how I was feeling, I had to ask for help to stop drinking.  The doctor sent me to a psychologist, who gave me a pill so I can relax, I don’t need the alcohol.

 

I came here 6 years ago through Ward 86 in General Hospital. Now that I don’t drink I can go to my family’s house again.   My mom was crying when she found out I have HIV, but now she understands I’m taking care to live longer.

 

Before I used to drink hard liquor for days, one day my esophagus exploded, I was really close to dying. You get tired of all that suffering.

 

I like it here. I’m happy in my room, I have privacy. A little place that I can be and I appreciate it.  I still go out, go walking the city. I still go to the Tenderloin and look in the windows and at the corners where I used to stand.  I have a friend I used to be very close to and I see him. He’s still on the streets. He’s doing crystal meth now.  I told him I want him to stop also, but he doesn’t want to.  I haven’t seen him in 8 months, I asked around and people told me where he was staying and I looked, but I couldn’t find him.  Last time I tried to buy him food, but he just asked me to buy him a beer, you know how people are when they’re drinking.  He was saying crazy things and I was embarrassed.

 

I’m still struggling, I have diabetes now. It’s hard, trying to balance it.  I’m still dealing with that.  I’m trying to see if I can find a part time job, keep myself occupied.  Something like moving stuff.  I get calls from a woman for staging houses and I really like doing that work.  I’ve been doing that for about 7 years, but it’s not a lot of work. It’s one house here or there.

 

I wish I hadn’t done things I did, but when people tell you not to do things, you don’t want to listen. You want to do it the hard way. I had to get sick. I’m amazed I’m still alive. Alcohol is a sickness. I didn’t know in the beginning. It felt fun, it felt good. Then I saw a lot of my friends get sick and die, and they didn’t want to admit it.  I wish I hadn’t done it. Maybe I would be married now. I have a girlfriend in San Jose. She comes to see me on weekends.  I’m trying to enjoy, however long I have to live. I don’t want to suffer the way I was suffering. I won’t say I won’t ever drink again, but I don’t want to go back.