In Helf

ALLEN BEARS

In Hell

The first day is hell! You can ask any one of us and we will tell you that. Emotions seem to have taken over; there is so much anger, fear, and worst of all, guilt. I want to tear the world apart and at the same time run and hide. Cold fingers of fear begin to squeeze my chest, I can't breathe, and I sure as hell can't focus! Damn it, how could I have let this go so far? What have I done?

I walk into rehab. So much is going on, but nothing is registering. I crashed yesterday and am still in a tale-spin. I wish I were high again. Someone starts talking. My wife answers, but I know that person is talking to me. Nothing reaches me; my brain is asleep and running a marathon at the same time. Neither of them makes any sense. They might as well be speaking in French. "WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?"

The confusion must not register on my face because that stranger just keeps smiling at me and rambling on about something that she thinks is so damned important. BA-BOOM, BA-BOOM. My heart is exploding in my chest, it roars like a locomotive. They can't hear it.

I keep staring from the stranger (I found out later her name is Margaret) over to my wife; she seems as confused as I am. I'm sure she is wondering how I got here as well. "I'm scared. I know why I'm here; I've lost control. I'm a damn junkie."

I turn ice cold. The fun is over, and now I have to learn to live like all the other schmucks in the world. Wake up, go to work, come home, watch T.V., put the kids to bed and go to bed. Wake up, go to work, come home, watch T.V. put the kids to bed .... And just wait to die.

It's about two o'clock in the afternoon and a beautiful summer day in the small town of Mt. Pleasant, Utah. Yet, I cannot see any of the beauty, the world turned ugly to me years ago.

The orientation is over and we are free to walk around the compound. Everybody seems so happy. "Idiots, you live in a rehab and are happy about it!"

In the great room there are two clients working on some dumb assignment they were given. They must see the sadness and fear in my wife's eyes. They start to chat with her almost immediately. Telling her it will be o.k. "How the hell do they know that? How does anyone know anything?"

Slowly the afternoon drags on; personally I would rather be in the dentist chair. This evening there will be an open meeting of N.A., and I'm

told there is to be a graduation for some guy named Judd. I'm told he has been here for several months. "Lucky schmuck. You get to leave."

At seven o'clock everybody pours into the great room for a "life-saving" meeting. HA! HA! They start telling about when Judd first came here. What a problem he was and all the things he did wrong. Then they go on to say how he has changed, how great he has become. "Puke. Do they really buy what they are selling?"

Then Judd begins to speak, telling of his wicked ways and how it was killing him. But now he is a changed man. The roses are red, and life is so beautiful, and all that. I keep looking around the room reading everyone's face. "I cannot believe it; they are buying all this crap. Fools, well I'm not fooled; I know a sell job when I hear it."

He talks for almost 45 minutes. After awhile, I give up and start to listen. I'm shocked when he tells everybody how he could charm his way out of most everything. Why in the world would you admit that? That is your golden ticket to leave. Then the weirdest thing happens; I feel a pinhole of hope. "Can someone really get clean and stay clean? Could he really have changed? I doubt it."

He goes on to say, that he knew how to read people and get what he wanted from them, and how he had to stop that here. His silver tongue fooled no one here. He finally had to be honest. In order to move up in privileges, they had to start trusting you. He said that once he started being honest it got easier and easier.

I feel he is speaking that last bit straight to me. "Your crap won't work here! Be honest or be nothing." For the first time I begin to allow myself to think that there might be hope. I've failed at everything else I tried, but maybe, just maybe this could be different.

I'm stuck in this place for the next few months. They have me and they know it. This is my one chance to change. If I don't do it now, I never will. "Do I have the guts to go through with this? If I'm going to change my life and fix all the mistakes I've made along the way, maybe this place can help me. Maybe my wife will stay. I can't handle seeing the pain in her face anymore. It's worse than anything a judge could do to me." That was me 21 months ago. I still go to N.A. meetings regularly in order to stay clean: it is a lifestyle. Since that first day in rehab, I have not used any drugs nor drank any alcohol. I have stayed clean and sober and am proud of it. I'm currently in college and on the Dean's List. My goal is to become a counselor to help other addicts like me. I'm still married to that wonderful woman, and my life is better than it has ever been.