Debbie Doneburg looks out the window of her bedroom on a fall afternoon.“I’m thinking about why did I let this happen,” she says.
Until My Heart Finds a Home
At 70, Debbie Doneburg is still searching for a sense of belonging.
Text and Images by Sophie Proe
The slamming of a front door punctuates the stillness.
"Are you home,” a visitor yells from her front stoop. “Let me in!"
Exasperated, Debbie Doneburg says, "Who? Who is it?"
Silence.
She opens the door. A gripping scent of animal odor and stale cigarettes escapes the house.
Piles of boxes stand in the entry waiting to be packed. Debbie's breath is visible through the frigid, filtered light, as she returns to her room, the space she keeps locked away from the rest of the house. She lights her crack pipe and holds her dog Coco close as she gazes out the window.
Her greatest desire is to leave.
Debbie Doneburg says she is fed up with dealing with one problem after another. She sits in her cold living room waiting for a change.
"I feel like a prisoner in this house. I feel like there's nowhere to go.”Debbie, 70 years old, has called her residence on Plymouth Avenue in Rochester, N.Y., home for the past 15 years. Since 2012, this single floor house has been a sanctuary not only for her numerous animal companions, which include Coco the dog, a cat, two kittens, a fish, a hamster, a lizard, a tarantula, a rat, and a raccoon, but also people seeking temporary shelter. Sex workers, and survivors of sex trafficking, come and go from her home, using it as a place lay to low and to find food. This transient environment can be chaotic with drug use, fights and guests stealing Debbie’s belongings. Despite the lack of trust, Debbie maintains relationships with these people whom she says she considers family.
Debbie was born in Dade County Florida in 1954, adopted by Peter and Ella Boyko, who claimed they found her near a swamp. Her father's military service required relocations every three years which led to an inconsistent home life. Growing up, Debbie faced many challenges in her childhood that she did not fully understand. At 14, she was raped by stranger near her home that resulted in a pregnancy. Her mom, Ella, took her to an abortion clinic with no explanation of what to expect or feel, and never spoke of the incident with Debbie or her father.
A photo of Debbie lays on her dresser. "That's what I used to look like in 1996. That is when I was dancing. When I gave a fuck" Debbie said. She worked various jobs, including at Kodak, as a construction worker, and then as a stripper for ten years.
Archival image provided by Debbie
Archival image provided by Debbie
Archival image provided by Debbie
Archival image provided by Debbie
Archival image provided by Debbie
Archival image provided by Debbie
Archival image provided by Debbie
Archival image provided by Debbie
Archival image provided by Debbie
Debbie looks at her family photos in her extended room.
As Debbie progressed through adolescence, she began struggling with bipolar disorder, PTSD, depression, anxiety and eventually drug use. When Debbie was 15, she started smoking pot. "During that time that's what people where doing,” she says.
In 1975, Debbie moved to Rochester for a job at Kodak. She also worked in construction before becoming a stripper. In her early 20s, she started using crack and has struggled with addiction for most of her life. Debbie explains her dependence on crack saying it helps her to function and carry out daily tasks. “I don’t get high on it anymore,” she says. “It’s basically a waste of money. It just makes me feel better. It’s a bandaid, that’s all it is."
“I’m no different than you, I just have an addiction,
but I am the same way you are. ”
Debbie lights her crack pipe in her bed with her dog Zeus laying beside her. Crack costs $20 a bag.
“It’s like a cup of coffee. Otherwise I wouldn’t have done all this. I wouldn’t have cared. I don’t get high on it anymore. It’s basically a waste of money. It just makes me feel better. It’s a bandaid, that’s all it is."Debbie is one of a growing number of American seniors struggling with mental health and substance abuse issues. Approximately 13.9% of adults aged 50 or older have experienced some form of mental illness according to the 2022 National Survey on Drug Use and Mental Health. Nearly 1 million adults aged 65 years or older reported a substance use disorder during the past year, according to results from the 2018 National Survey on Drug Use and Health, conducted by the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration. “Cohorts have habits around drug and alcohol use that they carry through life,” said Keith Humphreys, a psychologist and addiction researcher at the Stanford University School of Medicine, in a 2023 New York Times article by Paula Span. As you get older, drugs can significantly impact your health. Your brain becomes more sensitive, and as the body changes, you become less tolerance. Within substance abuse programs, there are few treating this segment of the population, which is expected to double in 2050.
Debbie gravitates towards animals for comfort and emotional support, with whom she has discovered a sense of belonging and sanctuary. The loyalty and love Debbie receives from her many animals stands in contrast with the distrust she has come to expect from the people who often stay with her. In the loneliness of her addiction, Debbie has kept her door open in exchange for drugs, money, and companionship.
Debbie dances with her dog Coco on Christmas listening to “Ain’t Got Enough Dick to Go Around” by Wheeler Walker Jr.
“I could be out in the country watch the stars at night, not people knocking on my door all 24/7. I’d have a life. I’d would be with animals that would make me happy. Animals don’t hurt you and they don’t expect nothing in return except for love.”(Top) Debbie’s “Dream Board” hangs in the house on Plymouth Avenue. (Bottom left) Debbie lays in bed with her three dogs. (Bottom right) Debbie gives a kiss to her raccoon, Bandit.
Debbie has four children, Aaron and Noah, who are twins, Desiree, and Karlie, with who she raised without the help of her two ex-husbands. Desiree, was raised by Debbie while Karlie was taken in by her godparents, the Lohouses, at the age of 12. Aaron and Noah raised themselves through high school. Noah moved in with the Lohouses, as well, his sophomore year providing him with a stable environment.
“I wasn’t the best attempt mother… I regret it,” says Debbie. “I can’t get it back… But I can do the best with my grandkids now.” Debbie’s relationship with her sons is distant, with them both living out of state and little to no communication. In regards to her relationship with Debbie, Karlie states, “I’ve always loved my mom, but watching her live her life style, which has always come first, was difficult so I distanced myself. We aren’t estranged, I just feel I live in a different world than my mom and made the choice to do what’s best for me. But I worry and care about her, always.”
(Left) Debbie sits on her bed on Christmas day looking at the bags of photos of her four children when they were younger. (Right) On Christmas, Debbie watches her grandkids, Devon (left), and Tatiana (right), open up the presents she gave them.
In early February 2024, Debbie's landlord attempted to evict her, going as far as threatening to remove her belongings. With the threat of eviction, not only was her housing at risk, so was her sanctuary with her animals. She packed her valuables and entrust them to her friend Joe, who asked that his last name be withheld, who frequently helped around the house and often provides transportation.
Debbie lives solely on her social security check and money is often tight. Around this time, she was unable to pay her full gas and electric bill and the power was turned off. Despite the harsh winter conditions, and rather than seeking alternatives, she stayed in her home relying on heavy layers of clothing, blankets, and her dog Coco for warmth. She sustained herself with fruit, ramen, applesauce, peanut butter and any food given to her as people came to the house.
“I’m sick of this, it’s freezing in here. I’m not going leave, he can’t kick me out,” says Debbie.
“I want to go home but I know my home isn’t a home.”
On February 17, 2024, after experiencing a headache and dizziness, Debbie suffered a left middle cerebral artery (CM) stroke in her home. After the incident, she spent three days in the Emergency Department before being admitted to the Rochester General Hospital Stroke Unit. She remained at Rochester General for almost a week before being transferred to a rehabilitation facility on February 26. At the rehabilitation center, Debbie had speech and physical therapy until March 8. Despite the medical care, she expresses feeling "trapped" within the facility, yearning to return home to her animals. Throughout her recovery, Debbie’s daughters Karlie and Desiree, along with their children, regularly visited to provide their love and support.
(Top) Debbie lays in bed at a rehabilitation facility on March 4th, 2024. She waits until it is time to go to physical therapy. (Bottom Left) During physical therapy, Niko Ryan, physical therapist, helps Debbie improve on her balance. (Bottom Right) Debbie smiles at her granddaughter, Journee, last name withheld, during physical therapy.
Debbie has speech therapy with Morgan Wright and Lauren Holland on March, 4, 2024.
While Debbie was in rehabilitation her friend Joe gathered as many of her belongings as he was able from her residence on Plymouth Ave, including all the boxes Debbie had packed and everything removed from her walls. Joe stored what he could in his and his son’s basement and took Coco until Debbie could retrieve them. Eventually Debbie’s daughters discovered that the landlord had removed the rest of her things from the premises and piled them in the street, where they were either taken by others or picked up as trash. Ultimately, Joe took Coco to Lollipop Farm, an animal shelter, while Bandit, her raccoon, was taken by the Department of Environmental Conservation. No one seems to know what became of the other animals
(Left) Debbie’s house now empty on March 7, 2024. (Right) Debbie’s belongings piled in the street on March 7, 2024.
My biggest fear was take my stuff and end up in a garbage pile. And everyone says well you're alive. Yeah I'm alive but part of me is dead. ”
(Top) Debbie picks up her bags of clothes, and additional things that were given to her by rehabilitation on her daughters porch on March 8th, 2024. (Bottom Left) Debbie embraces her daughters dog on the steps once she got home from rehabilitation. (Bottom Right) Debbie sits on her new bed with a cigarette in her hand.
Debbie is embarking on a new chapter by moving in with her daughter Desiree, and her five grandchildren. Without a home to return to after completing rehabilitation, Desiree arranged for Debbie to stay with her for a year and then will help her find a place of her own. While Debbie acknowledges this transition as a fresh start, she does not see her daughter’s residence a home. For Debbie, home is defined by being surrounded by animals, her art, and the objects on her walls.
Debbie is unsettled and wants to leave Desiree’s home earlier than planned because she is bored. Besides going to therapy Monday to Thursday at Rochester Regional Health, Debbie spends most days at the house watching tv, and occasionally playing with the younger grandchildren. The lack of communication with others and independence leads to her craving to return to her past struggles with crack addiction. “I can’t be no one else but who I am,” says Debbie. “I can’t wait to get my own place… I can get high all by myself I don’t need them and if I don’t get high, I don’t get high. I’m clean all this time and it’s hard.”
“A home is mine not everybody else’s. I won’t have a home until I have a home myself.”
Debbie sits in her new room at her daughters house looking at her empty wall and her new things. “I’m feeling a whole lot of things and they’re not good.”
"The more drugs I did, the more I smoked the less I had to feel. And now... Unfortunately I'm feeling a whole lot of things and they're not good. I don't wanna get back there again."