44. Journals from Rehab
I’ve been to rehab many times. Some more than once. I’ve gone voluntarily, and at other times, under the mandate of a criminal court. One rehabilitation facility I attended, over four different times, imposed a daily journaling requirement of fifteen to twenty minutes. Initially resistant to this requirement, I struggled to find meaning in chronicling what I deemed a life completely devastated by addiction. I honestly felt that I never had anything worth journaling about. At the time, I couldn't grasp the significance of putting pen to paper. As an addict, my life up to that point had been a series of (self-inflicted) letdowns and setbacks, a stark contrast to the successes my loved ones and friends were experiencing—career advancements, marriages, home purchases, and the joy of starting families. They were experiencing all these amazing milestones in life, and I was sitting in a rehab writing a dumb journal entry about how messed up my life had become as a direct result of my addiction. The act of journaling felt like an unwarranted pause in a world that was steadily moving forward without me. The counselors reviewed our journals weekly, prompting us to delve deeper into our reflections. They strongly advised us to retain these journals, even after completing the rehab program, asserting that revisiting them could aid in our recovery—a notion that initially dumbfounded me. Why would I want to stay stuck in this cycle of self-destruction? But I was so desperate, and in so much pain, that I decided to listen to the counselors for a change. Nothing I had tried up to this moment was working for me. Desperate, I took their advice and preserved the journals, stowing them away in the back of my closet, where they remained forgotten for years. I unexpectedly discovered these long-neglected entries during one of my routine end-of-year closet purges. Intrigued, I embarked on a journey through the pages of my past, revisiting the depths of my struggles, regrets, and pain.
It was at that very moment that the counselors' wisdom became crystal clear to me. The journals serve as a poignant record of my darkest moments, a vivid testament to the consequences of my addiction. Instead of them being a burden, which I initially thought they were, they suddenly became a necessary element of my recovery—a vivid reminder of where I had been and how far I had come since then. These journals “keep it green” for me in my recovery. "Keeping it green" is a phrase commonly used in 12-step programs like Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) or Narcotics Anonymous (NA). It essentially means staying vigilant and focused on one's recovery, continuously practicing the principles and behaviors that contribute to a healthy and sober life. It emphasizes the ongoing effort needed to maintain sobriety, even when faced with challenges or temptations. These journals, now cherished relics, embody my commitment to continuous personal growth and renewal, reinforcing the idea of ongoing personal development and positive change in recovery from substance abuse. This reflection on the therapeutic power of journaling serves as a testament to the unexpected value hidden within the pages of one's past. The act of revisiting these journals may be uncomfortable, but it is undeniably essential for maintaining and thriving in my recovery. In the upcoming weeks, I plan to offer readers a series of journal entries, providing them with a glimpse into my thoughts and emotions during one of the most challenging periods of my life. Here are two journals to kick this off!
“My parents did their very best with me. Where I'm at today, and where I’ve been the past 10+ years has ABSOLUTELY nothing to do with anything they did. My parents told me from a very early age that I should not do drugs. They also made it very clear of the possible consequences that come with drug use. My father being an alcoholic and dope addict was a perfect example of why I should not do drugs. It has taken me over ten years to realize the destruction my addiction has caused. I am slowly killing my mom. I can literally see the change in her appearance because of my actions. I know for a fact that if I die because of this disease, a large part of my mom will die too. I also believe that if I were to pass from this disease a part of my mom would be relieved. I never meant to hurt anyone. It tears me apart as I sit here and realize the extent of my actions. *I LOVE MY FAMILY MORE THAN LIFE ITSELF* My actions say differently. I still have so many people in my corner, even after putting them through hell time and time again. For that, I am eternally grateful. I want to prove to them that I can do this. I want to prove to them that I can beat this disease. I want to prove to them that I can be a productive member of society. *INTEGRITY* I have none at the moment.”
“I’ve watched ten years of my life pass me by. At the age of 29, I have almost nothing to my name. My entire life has been consumed with drinking, drugging, selling drugs, lying, stealing… and the list goes on. I feel hopeless. I feel like there is no purpose to my life, I have no direction. I need to find something that will give my life some purpose. I can’t keep using and selling drugs. I will, without a doubt, either die or end up in prison. If I continue living like this, I will lose my family and without family I have NOTHING. Money, cars, and toys don’t matter at the end of the day if I don’t have my family. I need to reevaluate my priorities.”
And remember, if you’re struggling, or know someone who is struggling, please don’t lose hope. If that had happened to me, I wouldn’t be able to help spread awareness today.
