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This client chose to share his experiences during his first days at Back2Basics. Possibly, some of the most honest and observant journal entries to come from one of our clients. They continue to amaze us!
“Day 1”
My plane took off from Philly at 1pm, and as soon as my view was obscured by clouds I drifted off to sleep. Upon waking, I decided to read and knock off about 80 pages of Joseph Heller’s Catch-22. Even though it had been three years since I originally finished the book, I found myself remembering a good bit about the characters. Despite my memories there was something different about the novel that had not been there before. The combination of irony, comical events, tragedy, and madness struck a sad chord in my heart. These poor people were living on the brink of death every day. And who was responsible? Was their world responsible for their own destruction? Or were they already messed up to begin with? Motion sickness got the best of me and I sat anxiously and uncomfortably for the rest of the flight.
The last 10-15 minutes before my plane landed a sense of relief and minor euphoria washed over me and I was grateful to catch my breath. I’ve always enjoyed traveling and I guess that doesn’t change even when my destination is rehab.
My time in the airport and in the shuttle from Phoenix to Flagstaff was entirely uneventful except for the sensation of dread and indecision that began to replace my relief as the sun went down.
Upon arriving at Hunter House [one of B2B’s residential houses] I was extremely grateful to see an old friend of mine. The theme of irony was still stuck in my head, and I couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. My friend had achieved a solid grip on his life, all the while, I had been struggling and sinking faster into a pit of quicksand. At some point someone in the house told me “I’ve come home” and the implications of that statement rung out thoroughly in my head.
“Day 2”
Strobe lights. I can’t seem to get that phrase out of my head. On and off. Up and down. I feel hopeful and hopeless from hour to hour or some disorienting place in between the two. Just like strobe lights leave a burning and blinding impression in your eyeballs, all the stuff I have done has left tracers in my head. It’s hard to tell what’s going on anymore.
Today I went to a 12 Step meeting for the first time in my life. My initial impression was that it felt like a church with spattering of the word God hanging on posters around the walls. I don’t like church. Because they remind me of two things: funerals and a type of people who seem to like the thought that other people who disagree with them spend eternity suffering after they die. As the meeting got into swing these worries went away. This place was not like a church and the people did not want to judge me. All they wanted was to talk about the reality of their problems and to help each other overcome them. It was pretty refreshing to see a gathering of real people with real and current stories to tell.
There came a point in the meeting I was asked to walk up to the front and receive my 24-hour chip. I admitted to being an alcoholic even though I felt unworthy of the word for some reason. Despite this it still felt good to tell a group of strangers that I have a problem even if my problem revolved around more than alcohol. It was the first time someone clapped for me in a long time. I’m absolutely freaked out about the idea of being sober for the rest of my life but at least I’m taking it seriously.