I had messed up pretty badly. I was drinking, taking pills, stole my Dad’s credit card, and was in a very bad place. In my last post, you’ll read that my Dad gave me quite an ultimatum. Call the cops or outpatient rehab. Obviously I picked rehab, but what my parents didn’t know was that I wanted rehab. I saw myself going further and further down a hole I had no idea how to dig myself out from. I felt like every part of me; my mind, my heart, my body was being swallowed whole into a dark abyss.
I quit everything except cigarettes as bad as they are you don’t want to try quitting that while trying to face addiction. No more drinking, no smoking weed (which was hard, since ALL my friends smoked and drank.) I quit because I wanted to, but this program also drug tested you, and if you tested positive you were out of the program.
I woke up every morning at 5 A.M. to sit in New York traffic to make sure I made it on time for 7:30 A.M. Being late, wasn’t an option. And if anyone knows me, I am NOT a morning person. This was all very new, scary and hard for me.
My anxiety was through the roof. Being around a group of people I didn’t know. Talking about intimate personal, scary detailed things with complete strangers was odd. But deep down I knew I needed to do this.
The first time I got drug tested, they called me in to talk. PCP showed up in my system. I cried “I quit everything for this! I don’t smoke weed, I stopped drinking!”
They said having taken ecstasy it could have still been in my system, so they re-tested me. Which ended up coming back clean. I had been taking drugs that were crammed packed of who the hell knows. A plethora of drugs combined into one. It could be cut with anything from ketamine, PCP, cough medicine, etc. You get the picture. NOT GOOD!
I never stopped once to think about what I was actually putting into my body and that was terrifying!
Let me just give you a quick run down on the side effects of what taking ecstasy regularly can to do your body:
- Sleep disturbances
- High blood pressure levels
- Heart damage
- Impaired attention and memory
- Muscle/joint stiffness
- hyperthermia
The list goes on and on and there can be A LOT worse that goes along with it. Let alone there’s dangers for drinking too, which I have shared in several posts. I could have really done serious damage to myself.
I drove while intoxicated and coming down from ecstasy. I am lucky to be alive and not have killed anyone.
Again, following the path my Dad took….that I so desperately hated.
With going to group therapy at rehab it became apparently obvious where my issues stemmed from. I guess I am lucky in that aspect, its not always that simple to figure out why you have done the things you have done.
At the root of my anger, depression, drinking and using drugs; was my Dad.
This is where my whole life did a complete turn around. They asked my Dad to come in for a one on one session. I was beyond nervous. They wanted me to tell my Dad everything I had always wanted to say to him, but would never listen to. I was terrified.
He came, he did that much. They sat him across from me and they told him he had to stay quiet and listen to everything I needed to say. Every time he tried to react, or say something they shut him down. I thought he would lose it! But I think because he knew how bad things had gotten and it was for me, he listened.
I got out everything that sat on my chest since I was Thirteen years old! EVERYTHING I have ever wanted to say, he had to listen. Every time he wrote me off, every bad thing he did or said to me…. he HAD to listen.
It was like a ton of bricks was lifted off my chest.
And through the drinking and rehab I saw a part of HIS life that he had to go through.
It was as if the worlds axis changed and we BOTH finally understood each other. The therapy session changed everything for my Dad and I.
Something shifted between us. I no longer hated him. Going through it myself made me understand his disease more and made me realize I had to be careful not to slip up again. And also made me realize how to cope just a little easier when he did have relapses.
We became best friends. We could talk better, there was a connection forged through fire. I understood not to hate, but to empathize. I no longer wondered “Why does he hate us so much?” He didn’t hate us, he hated himself; just like I had hated myself.
Was there a lot more work to be done? Of course! There always is.
Sometimes bad things bring us to better places. Outpatient rehab helped me realize I did NOT want to turn into my Dad. I took the help. Help my Dad never took, even if he thought he did. I did the work, he never did. I think he thought he did, truly I do. But he didn’t, not really.
We can trick our minds into believing a lot of things. It’s how we stop tricking ourselves thats important.
Outpatient rehab saved me in a huge way. I don’t “regret” what I went through. It led me to roads I wouldn’t have taken. Cleared my mind of all these expectations. Led me to better relationships.
Were there more bumps along the way? For sure. But I no longer reacted the way I used to. And that’s extremely important. I was no longer self sabotaging. And that was a major step in the right direction.
