To Rehab or Not Rehab, That Is the Question

When I realized I had a problem, the first thing I did was call my company’s employee assistance program. I was totally confused and scared. I knew something really bad was happening to me, but I didn’t know what to do. I remember making that call. I forced myself to mention I thought I might have a problem with alcohol – I had the courage at that moment to say it, and I wanted the cat to be out of the bag so to speak.  Once I had said it outloud to someone, I knew I’d have to face it.

I was very lucky. The EAP counselor I had was gentle and kind – she knew I was skittish and ready to run for the door. Why? Because I was terrified that someone would tell me I couldn’t drink alcohol anymore. It was my Vitamin A. It was essential to my survival. Or so I thought.

She took a couple of sessions, probing with questions that were hard to evade but didn’t scare me off.  I’d made it clear I didn’t think I was an alcoholic, just had a lot of problems and stress, and if I could fix those things, I would drink less (sound familiar?).  I made it really clear: I did not think Iwould be “one of those people” who go to smoky rooms for some sort of public confessional about their drinking (i.e., no AA for me).  About the fourth session she handed me a brochure for alcohol rehab.  The most striking thing I remember about looking at it was seeing the word “alcoholic” – it felt like someone had stabbed me in the gut.

I can remember looking at the word over and over, trying to get used to it. I hated the word. It brought up all sorts of images that just couldn’t be me. I can’t be one of those people!

I recognized pretty quickly that I wasn’t doing well and really needed to get away from my life for a while – so thinking back, I’d say I went to rehab because I didn’t know what else to do (and I thought it was an alternative to AA – haha).  A van picked me up in Manhattan to drive me upstate to the rehab.

I remember arriving, and one of the first things they handed me was the Big Book. I thought, “I think I’ve been bamboozled!”  But I was there, and I didn’t take my problem lightly, so I decided to see what they had to say.  I embarked on 28 days of rehab with as open mind as I could.  I was committed. There was a crazy lady working at this particular rehab who didn’t like me – and I remember thinking when she scowled at me, yelled at me, put me down – but I WANT to be here. Why is she acting like someone made me go here?  Like I’d been sentenced to jail and she was the mean guard. In fact, no one had suggested rehab other than the therapist I spoke with at the EAP.  Lucky for me, the angry crazy lady went on vacation for two weeks and I was left to actually do some recovery work without being shamed (hope they eventually got rid of that negative woman).

They had quite a few meetings at this particular rehab, and I started to actually like them. I started to make friends and feel part of a community.  I cried when I left to go home. I also remember they didn’t give me a van ride home. They dropped me at the train station.  You can just imagine me walking through Grand Central my first day out of rehab. I was terrified – would I be able to succeed?  I knew I had to get to a meeting asap.

This is the long way of saying, for me, rehab was the door for me. I was so resistant to meetings, that it took these 28 days to break down that resistance and make me willing.  This isn’t the case for everyone – in fact most people don’t go to rehab.

Whether to go to rehab or not is a personal decision, one that should be based on what you need to make a change.  Certainly if you have a prejudice against meetings, rehab can be a great place to overcome any misconceptions. Over the years I’ve heard many a person go through a similar process – they just need to learn how to control their drinking, fix their problems and on and on…all the things I told myself to protect my addiction.  For me, it was focusing on reaching out for help and trusting other people to guide me that led to my acceptance of not being able to drink, one day at a time.