Site hosted by Build your free website today!

My Months at Rehab

Below: Me At 15 With a Buddy

Rehab was not a healthy place for me. I developed in there an even more intense desire to form that identity I talked about, because in a sick way I already believed this was who I am. It was very strict, and I was supposed to spend about 1 year inpatient before being slowly released back into society. We were forced to sing kids songs and stand up in groups to express how it is we feel. Not necessarily a bad thing, but to be frank at the time when I entered into that place I didnít have much of a history with drugs. Just a little marijuana here and there and some drinking. When I was told that unless I was able to write something down in my journal nightly about stories of drug use from my past and working out particular feelings surrounding them, that I would not advance in the program. This made me think Iíd be stuck there for years. So, I began making up stories about my past, because within a few weeks Iíd completely run out of true ones. I think looking back this created in me a desire to create a history, because I actually felt less than others there who had legitimate stories to tell. These were my peers, and I wanted to be accepted.

Anyway, about 2 months into the program I was kicked out. The arrangement was every night we would go to another memberís house (more advanced in the program) to be under their supervision. We would be led from the rehab to our car, and from the car to the house by our belt loops. It was very weird. But anyway, one night it was just 3 of us and the members looking after us wanted out just as Keith and I did. However, he was court ordered to be there so failure would mean jail time instead. But the other guy and me had nothing to lose, and only freedom to gain. So we all concocted a story where the other newcomer and myself had some sexual relations (the only way one can be kicked out) and Jamie (our caretaker) called the rehab at 3 a.m. in a false panic explaining ďwhat had happened.Ē Within a week, me and Keith (the other guy) were back out on the street, breathing fresh air. It was truly a moment of victory for the both of us.

While I was in rehab I had gone into some light detail about my encounter with the guy from A.A., and as a result they informed my parents of itís occurrence soon after my release. Being something I didnít really want to continue facing yet feeling obligated to take some sort of action, my family and I pressed criminal charges and from there I donít know what happened. Some detectives came out to the house, asked some questions, and we never heard from them again. Which was just as well if you ask me, I didnít want to acknowledge that episode anymore than I had to.

Life was pretty fun actually after my release, though the fun constituted much heavier drug use. However, I did go back to school for a short period before dropping out at 16 and taking on a full time job. This provided me with all the money I needed to smoke as much weed as I liked. But by 18, all of that would soon change, when I was to encounter a much more sinister beast.