Narcotics Detective Can’t Escape His Own Addiction

Everything in my life was focused on having a whole lot of people accept me, and my actions had brought me to a point where I was getting recognized, but I was getting recognized for the ugliest most hated things you can do.

My name is Joe McElroy. In my 4 years as a narcotics detective, I took down some pretty bad guys. Eventually, I became one myself.

My story starts when I was just a kid growing up in Arkansas.

The relationship with my father was difficult. He worked a lot.  He expected a lot. And I always felt like I didn't quite – didn't quite make it to that standard that he had set for me. I knew he loved me but I don't feel like I ever gained the acceptance.

So when I got to high school, I discovered ways to get people’s attention.

I found that when I drank and when I got loud and showed off or fought, or whatever it was, people would look at me and smile and laugh and thought I was funny or crazy or whatever you wanted to call it. I could go to these parties and be accepted by a lot of people.

By the time I got to college the partying had pretty much taken over my life.

I was drinking at least a 12-pack of beer a day and smoking weed pretty much every day all the time.

I dropped out in my first year and got a job working at a warehouse. Later, I got married and I started a family. But I felt like a failure and wanted to prove myself. That’s when I decided to become a cop.

To be able to go around with the badge and the uniform—it gives you a sense of power. It all fed into this need for acceptance and for being known for something.

So I stopped smoking weed, cut back on the drinking, and I made it through the academy. But being a cop, it was never enough, so I worked my way up to becoming a narcotics detective. That’s when the trouble started. I was working undercover posing as a potential buyer.

So I go to buy a substantial amount of methamphetamine and of course the guy wants me to use methamphetamine to prove that I'm not a cop.

I didn't want him to shoot me and I wanted to do the cases, I wanted to make the cases. I remember doing a line of meth and having this moment where I was like, “Oh, this is not good.  Something's different about this.  Something's dangerous about this.” It wasn't an “If I'm going to get high” again at that point.  It was ‘When am I going to get high? How am I going to get high? What do I have to do to get high? What do I have to steal to get high?’

I got my answer when I was assigned to clean out an old evidence room. There were drugs, weapons, money, you name it. It was all too easy to take what I needed to support my addiction.

My family didn't matter, my career didn't matter, my image didn't even matter anymore. Addiction had taken over enough at that point that it-it was in control. It absolutely 100% ran my life.

Eventually I got caught and was arrested on 9 felonies.

I was facing 120 years, if they'd have really wanted to stack those charges. I was devastated.  I mean, I didn't even know where to begin or what to do with myself.

Since I didn’t have any priors, the judge only gave me 1 year of jail time with 10 years of probation.

So here I am, dirty cop, walking into prison, my story's on TV, they're looking at the TV, they're looking at me my first several days. There was fighting. I was really getting beat up.

One day, I knocked over a stack of food trays just to get put into solitary confinement for protection.

My heart was as soft as it could be at that point.  I had taken physical beating, mental beating, spiritual beating; I was done. I knew I needed to change, I knew I needed something other than what I'd been seeking this entire time, and the only person I knew to ask for help from was God at that point. And invited him to come work in me.

“Jesus, forgive me, please forgive me.” For the first time in my life, I felt like I'm accepted, I'm okay, I'm good enough because he's so good, because he's so loving, because he's so kind.

After that, I got myself transferred into a faith-based block to serve the rest of my sentence. There, the Christian inmates showed me God’s love in such a real way.

It was the first time that I'd ever laid myself bare and been transparent with people. I could just be me.  And they accepted me, and they loved me with all my flaws and all my mistakes.

I got out in 2010, and over time God helped me overcome my addiction and get through a painful divorce. Now, I’m happily remarried, work at a contracting company.

God's acceptance is without hindrance. You don't have to perform to receive it. He's there, he's ready.  He's that dad that's running towards you, not holding back at all.