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My Months in Rehab
ZM Seung Sahn (1927-2004)
Ahem. So...where to begin?!! I could start out with birthdays and the like, life growing up beginning with babyhood. But that would likely put you and me to sleep long before we had arrived at any real meat. So I guess Iíll start with where everything seemed to begin going wrong. My teenage years were a pretty crazy time. At a fairly young age I started to do some normal experimentation I guess, getting together with friends and smoking a joint or two here and there. I recall as a highschool freshman having a sincere longing for identity. With drugs you might say I had found it. In school halls and at social gatherings I felt I was pretty invisible. I saw drugs as a way to create a persona, to basically define who I am and what I'm about. I didnít start off so bad, actually at the time I was downright naive about the ways of the world. I had no idea then where the roads of my life would one day find me in prison. I was raised in a loving environment, something I resented every waking moment of. I viewed things like that as corny and didn't participate in it nor return it. I was full of hate and loathing, both inward and for most everything around me. So far your probably saying, ďSo far Iím with you. Sounds like every adolescent who ever walked the earth!Ē To that end Iíll agree with you, yet what started out as innocent fun led me down some very dark roads.
The path of experimentation with chemicals changed drastically from a casual undertaking to a daily pursuit in later years. I always had and still have to a degree a low self image, and I think looking back I was placing a band-aid over some real scar tissue. At 15 I had started to go to A.A. and was preyed upon by an older male who attended the youth meetings I had been going to. I thought this was a real nice guy who I could trust, someone I was even considering to be my sponsor. I literally had no idea that he was gay, and had I known I probably still wouldnít have believed he was interested in me for that reason. Anyway, one night after a meeting and coffee with everyone afterwards, he invited me back to his apartment to watch a movie. Not having many friends and wanting to show my parents I was doing the right thing by getting sober, I was eager for his friendship. The rest I wonít go into very much because it makes me somewhat uncomfortable, but Iíll say that while it wasnít a forceful rape it was a real violation of trust. Itís sick, but I didnít want to be disliked so I just went along with everything. I do remember (from what little I do recollect) that I felt as most people do after such encounters, very dirty.
The next day, my parents took me to a very intense drug rehab. I didnít speak a word of what happened the night before. Not to anyone.