Rehab Therapy: 28 Day Experience

"Hi, my name is Chris, and I am an alcoholic." Yes, I have said this. And yes, I went to a drug and alcohol rehab center for...how did the military put it??...for alcohol dependency. You see, I had a problem coping with military life and I channeled my stress with timely party sessions till 3 or 4 o'clock in the morning. Oh, by the way, I had to report for duty at 0630 every freaking day.

Needless to say, this lifestyle caught up to me and I would show up to work late with a hangover. So, I was sent to the 'wellness' center, which is just another way of saying, "You need a psychiatrist." In the end, the U.S. Air Force linked my alcohol abuse with coping my anxiety and I was sent to a rehab center in Destin, Florida. Twelve Oaks was the name and I remember the first day quite well.

After some paperwork, I was sent to to the medical room. There, the on-call nurse did the normal routine, you know, blood work, collecting stool samples ... it's a wonderful process, let me tell you! Then, as I was going through the motions, I saw something that I will never forget.

Let me first explain that this particular medical facility was not the largest of all room, so the detox room was literally right next to the processing area. That night, an in-processing newbie had decided to get tanked right before he admitted himself to the rehab center and they had to pump his stomach. That might have been the nastiest and scariest thing I have ever seen in my life! If that doesn't turn you away from alcoholism then I'm not sure what will!

After that horrific sight, they sent me to an evening rally (which happened every night), where all the patients gathered together and listened to the counselor of the day. The audience seemed massive, I recollect, and I was in complete shock. I thought to myself, "Wow, what the hell am I doing here?"

The Routine:

First, they had rules.

No sex.

No drugs.

No leaving the premises.

No skipping meeting. They had a sign-in sheet for every meeting.

No staying out past curfew.

No sleeping in.

No phone calls.

No TV.

NO! NO! NO!

Next, the Schedule. Everyday was the same day.

Wake up...Eat...Mourning exercise (walk, play sports, etc). First meeting of the day, then lunch, second meeting of the day, free time, dinner, free time, and then the big final meeting of the day. Then we would wined down and were in bed by 9 (or was it 10, I don't recall).

The next day was the same thing. The only change would be at the end of the week where you had a one on one with your personally assigned counselor to discuss your week's progress.

Looking back, it was the routine that kinda threw me off. The purpose, as I understood it, was to get the drug addicted mind back to reality to demonstrate what a little structure and a little sanity looks like. Honestly, I think the routine reminds the patient of the grind that the real world represents. However, it is the grind that make us hate life, making us want to unload and party on the weekends. It's the grind that always pulls at you and creates hardship and stress.

In this area, I believe rehab centers need to approach it in a different way. Counselors need to provide something more constructive, interesting, and creative. They need to make life worth living...Anyway, there's my rant, moving on...

I think the most important part of the rehab experience, and of any experience for that matter, is the interaction between the people you meet. You can learn a lifetime of wisdom and knowledge from anyone, and Twelve Oaks was no different. There were so many unique characters that it almost felt like a script right out of a movie. There was the gay bartender who snorted coke in order to continue his drinking binge for hours and hours. Consequently, he was addicted to both drugs.

There was the young, blond coke addict who owned an escort service. Her plan was to act like she kicked the habit in order to gain her husband's trust. Then there was the sweet, middle-aged woman who talked to herself and was addicted to pain medicine. She was in obvious pain and had no idea why she admitted herself in the first place. She loved to play Scrabble and I must admit I played a game or ten and often lost. I hate losing!

Anyway, there was another blond, this one tall, who was addicted to nearly everything and always talked about brewing her own 'moonshine' with the kitchen's potato stash that the facility seemed to have in ample supply. Oh, we may not have milk, meat or bread in the morning but all hell would break lose if we didn't have those damned potatoes!

You see, that's the good stuff. With every story, there were stories within stories, and with that, told the whole story. While I was there I heard a counselor say that, "We [the addicts] are very intelligent. We are not only exceptional conartists to everyone around us, but we also deceive ourselves. We are f-ing brilliant!" I think that statement explained every single person in there, including myself although I had no idea why at the time. Moving on...

Like every living, breathing society, there were cliques or social groups among the Twelve Oak's patients. There were the cool groups who played cards and 'bones'. There were the sports people who played basketball and flag football, the jocks of the group. There were the crazy people who had no idea where they were. And, of course, there were the rebels who did whatever the hell they wanted even though it was against the rules, especially if it was against the rules.

I, being the blender of all blenders, tried to mingle with everyone. And that worked for about a week...Actually, looking back, I'm surprised it lasted that long. It seemed like every group didn't like something about another group. This odd feeling seemed to create constant tension and drama at every moment, creating gossip, so-called backstabbers, and ulterior motives. It was amazing, bizarre, and somewhat scary all at the same time and it seemed to come in waves. One minute everything was fine and calm, the next minute people were screaming at each other at the top of their lungs.

In the end

So, what did I gain from this whole experience? Of course, I did learn to live addiction free, or rather how to live with an addiction. At the beginning, I was just looking to get out. I was thinking to myself, "28 days...that's it. I can do my time and get the hell out of here!" By the end, I created relationships that lasted 4 or 5 years after the experience.

I learned how to appreciate life. I learned the other side of the equation. Where people put themselves through hell and back and come out more determined than they ever thought possible. There were others that didn't make, and there's a realization that they may never make it. You can see it in them. It hurts and it's almost difficult to comprehend, and as I write this, it is difficult to explain or elaborate. That's something 'you' have to witness.

For the first time in my life, I learned that life was serious. I had always looked at life from a very sheltered point of view. This experience definitely broadened my little world and it's something that I'll forget...Ever.

Thanks Twelve Oaks!