64. Journals From Rehab

During my time in rehab, I committed to keeping a daily journal—a space where I could pour out my thoughts, struggles, and reflections as I faced the challenges of recovery head-on.  Writing became a vital outlet for me, helping me process the rollercoaster of emotions that came with detox and healing.  These passages reflect the highs and lows of my journey, from the depths of withdrawal to moments of clarity and growth.  Each entry is a raw reflection of my battle with addiction and my determination to rebuild my life.  Please keep in mind that I was fresh off a relapse when these entries were written, so my thoughts may not be as clear or organized as usual.  What you’ll find here is raw, honest, and deeply personal—my unfiltered experience of trying to piece my life back together.

Day 1 – Detox (05/22/2024)

Last evening, I made the difficult decision to check myself into detox at Bon Secours Hospital in Port Jervis, New York.  Saying I feel defeated doesn’t even begin to cover it.  I’ve let myself down and, more painfully, I’ve let down so many people who care about me.  My family is devastated, and they have every right to feel that way.  I should have asked for help.  There are so many people who would have dropped everything to support me, but instead, I turned to alcohol and drugs to numb the deep pain I’ve been carrying since the loss of my best friend, Chris.

I’ve been struggling with immense guilt since his passing.  We were inseparable growing up, and we used alcohol and drugs together for years.  I can’t shake the thought—if we hadn’t used together, would he still be here today?  This guilt has been eating away at me, and I allowed it to lead me down a path I know too well.  I have so much going for me, and it feels like I’ve thrown it all away in one moment.  But I know it’s possible to reclaim my life—I’ve had long periods of sobriety before.  I can achieve that again.

When I arrived at detox, I planned to stay only for that portion, but after a night of reflection,  I’ve decided to stay for rehab as well.  I need time to clear my head, to look within, and to make the changes necessary so I never end up in this position again.  I owe apologies to my family, my friends, my coworkers, and so many others.  The weight of letting so many people down is overwhelming, and I know that right now, my words don’t carry much meaning.  I have to show them my commitment through my actions.

I don’t know if I’ll be forgiven, and I can’t blame anyone if I’m not.  I’ve hurt people deeply, including my mother.  When I spoke to her last night, she said something that shook me to my core: “You are destroying me.”  Hearing her say that, with tears in her voice, made me realize just how much pain I’ve caused.  I never meant to hurt her—or anyone.  I just don’t want to feel this pain anymore.  I’m tired.  I’m tired of hurting people.  I’m tired of letting people down.  I want to make my family proud.

Right now, I’m going through a medical detox, with medications to help ease the withdrawal symptoms.  Even so, I feel sick as a dog—cold sweats, dry heaving with nothing left to throw up, restless legs, and crippling anxiety.  It feels like the worst flu I’ve ever had, multiplied by ten.  I don’t know why I keep doing this to myself.  This pain, this suffering—it’s all self-inflicted.  I just want to find peace, to be happy without needing substances to numb my feelings.

I know this is going to be a long journey, but I’m ready to take the next step.

Day 2 – Detox (05/23/2024)

Last night was brutal.  I’m in full-blown withdrawal, and when the nurses came in to tell me it was time for breakfast, it felt like I had only slept for ten minutes the entire night.  I dragged myself to the shower, hoping for some relief, but the water wasn’t even close to warm.  That cold shower was a harsh way to start the day.  I tried eating breakfast, but I could barely keep it down.  The food here is actually pretty good, but when you’re deep in withdrawal, it doesn’t matter.  I threw it up within minutes.  The only thing I can stomach right now is diet ginger ale mixed with cranberry juice.  I really hope I start feeling better soon.

Despite how awful I’ve been feeling, I’ve made it to all of today’s group sessions.  I’m determined to give this rehab stay everything I’ve got.  I can’t keep doing this to myself.  It sounds cliché, but I feel like I’m knocking on death’s door—and sooner or later, someone’s going to answer.  That realization hit me hard today.  I initially thought I’d just stay for detox and follow up with outpatient care, but that’s not going to be enough.  I’ve decided to stay for rehab, no question about it.

As for what comes after rehab?  I’m not sure.  Part of me doesn’t want to go into a long-term program, even though I might need it.  I’d love to go home, be with my family, and see my dog, Bumpy.  Summer is starting, and the thought of being stuck in rehab during it is hard to accept.  But I also know I’m not in the right headspace to make that decision now.  I need to let my body flush out all the alcohol and drugs before I can think clearly about what’s next.

I wish I had been stronger, that I hadn’t picked up and used again.  I hate the position I’ve put myself in... again.  I’m so disappointed in myself, and it’s hard not to feel downright depressed.  I’m on medication for depression, but it doesn’t work when I’m using.  Right now, I just feel lost—mentally and emotionally drained.  The mental pain is almost unbearable, but I’m trying my best to push through it.

I know my words don’t carry much weight anymore.  I’ve said “I’m going to do better” before, but I haven’t followed through.  My dishonesty has hurt my credibility, and I get that.  Still, I need to try to get back on track and rebuild my life, piece by piece.  I really hope I can sleep better tonight; I need the rest.  This is going to be a long, hard road.  I’ve been down it before, but I’m not sure if I can do it again.  Still, I’ve got to be strong, for myself and for the people who love me.  I’m going to fight like hell to get back to where I was before this relapse.

There’s no doubt it’s going to be difficult.  I’m prepared for that.  I’m going to take this time in rehab to reflect deeply on everything—on where I went wrong, what I need to change, and how to stay on this path for good.  I hope I can make it work this time.

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.