Entering the rehabilitation center, I started to choke up.  But I had made my decision!  It was time for a change.  There was a security guard dressed in black behind a tall counter.  On my right was a metal detector that was apparently unused.  He gestured for me to blow into a machine that measured alcohol content.  I had already filled out the appropriate paperwork at another facility, so there was nothing else for me to do.  So, I was taken upstairs to my room.

The mental obsession starts to come down on me hard

I plopped down on the hard bed and looked around.  My first class wasn't until the morning.  Years and years had led up to me being here at this particular moment.  There were 5 other beds in the room.  I guessed that all the guys were attending the various substance abuse groups facilitated by the rehab center.  With nothing else to do, I put the sheets and blanket on my bunk, hung up my meager amount of clothing in the wooden closet, and my mind started to wander.  

I didn't want to use drugs or alcohol anymore, that much was certain.  But I couldn't stop thinking about them.  When something is part of your everyday routine for so long, it becomes permanently entrenched in the deepest facets of your mind.  I made vain attempts to push the thoughts away.  This . . . this was the very definition of powerlessness.  The utter inability to leave something alone no matter how great the necessity or the wish.  Thank God I was in a safe environment.  

Reach your hand in the bag, and pull out a trick

Today, I understand that I was deep in the madness of the cycle.  Of course I was thinking about using.  I was only a few days sober and freshly released from jail.  When the mental obsession comes on strong there really is no way to fight it.  I was so tired of fighting.  Other thoughts piled in on me:  

You are a terrible son

You will never amount to anything

You do not deserve to be happy

You can never conquer your substance abuse problem

A couple years later, I had a conversation with a guy that was talking about the exact same thoughts I was having that night.  He called it the "addict's bag of tricks".  Even when we make a good decision and attempt to do something good, our mind would pull out the bag and show all the different trinkets to us.  

Chess became my nightly diversion

I couldn't lay in that bed anymore.  I got up and went out to the community area.  There were a couple other people sitting at a wooden picnic table playing chess.  My Dad taught me how to play the game as a child.  I loved the game.  Spent a ton of time pushing pieces around the board over the years.  I was grateful these two gentlemen were here with me.  Chess would work to quell the roaring of my mind.  And it did . . . I met these two guys and played chess with them clear up until dinner was called.  I will never forget how they helped me get out of myself just enough to rid myself of the mental obsession.  I didn't realize it was gone until much later. 

By this time, other people were returning from their groups and classes. I honestly can't recall what we ate that first night.  Dinner was served downstairs.  Apparently, the facility used to be a hospital and people were saying that the cafeteria was exactly where the morgue used to be . . . I was never able to corroborate that bit of information.  And a part of me never wants to.  After a meal, we were allowed to step outside for a cigarette.  All tobacco products were either kept by participants in their own lockers, or kept behind the security desk.  Purchasing a locker for the duration of a person's stay was 5 dollars.  

A little blurry, but this is the picnic table where we would smoke.  That's my vape blocking half the photo :)  The white van in the background was the transport vehicle.  The rehab center is in the background.

The rest of the night was uneventful.   Bedtime was at ten.  I was eager to get on with my treatment.  In the morning, a bus was picking me up and taking me to my first day of groups.  I didn't know it at the time, but a man who volunteered to speak every week would be there.  This man would drastically alter the course of my life and help me to recover from this seemingly hopeless condition once and for all.

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Thanks for reading!  If you want to get started with my first blog post in the series, pop on over to here

 Sources: 1, 2, 3,