#I’m still stuck in rehab and I can’t draw shit this is agonizing

[dicktat]

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Sketchbook artdump day

2023.08.03

[samtheflamingomain]

one week down

I went into inpatient rehab last Monday and figured now would be a good time to give an update. I have a lot to say, but I know not everyone cares deeply about every minute detail, so I'll do a quick highlight reel for those mildly interested.

There's 5 of us, 3 men, 2 women. I'm the youngest by 7 years, and the only one here for just alcohol and weed. We have 6h of mandatory classes/groups every day except weekends when it's 1.5h. The classes are pretty boring and mostly stuff I learned from entry-level CBT/DBT with a few hidden gems of wisdom here and there.

We wake up at 8, DIY breakfast, class for 2.5h, lunch, 1.5h class, break, 1h class, dinner, an optional walk around the block, another 1h class, then bedtime meds and last smoke break at 10pm. No mandatory lights out time but I'm usually exhausted and out by 10:30.

The food sucks, but I'm trying to lose weight so I'm glad it does. I've already lost 6 pounds. On the other hand, I can't remember the last time I ate 2 meals with vegetables for a week straight. I'm smoking 3 times as much as I ever have, because everyone else is a "pack-a-day" smoker and it's been great to take away cravings and also socialize.

I really like the people in the group, and there are 2 staff members who are very well-liked because they're great, 2 that are okay, 2 that are serious hard-asses, and one who's just an outright asshole piece of shit with no business being in the healthcare field.

I'm in a weird kind of mindset where I go back and forth between "I never need to drink again" and "I can probably get drunk once or twice a month, the others here are much worse off than me, so comparatively, my addictions aren't such a big deal". I know that neither of these mindsets are truly healthy. The first because I know there will be days where I will want to drink and I need to plan for that, and the second because I simply cannot do moderation, and my life and problems aren't diminished by the existence of others' problems.

As for poppers, the other thing I'm quitting, I know I can never do them again. Poppers are all-or-nothing. It's impossible to moderate them because I would just do them all day every day, and the few times I've tried to quit them myself, by day 3 I'm digging through garbage to make a DIY bong. Quitting alcohol makes me restless, which I can manage. Quitting poppers makes me so depressed that I get suicidal.

Sorry, that was the "short" version but it got away from me. Now for a bit more detail.

I had to be 5 days sober of alcohol to come in, so it's been nearly 2 full weeks since my last drink, and exactly 2 weeks since the last time I got drunk. I still fantasize about getting sloshed again, but the rational part of my brain is slowly coming back and overriding those thoughts. I haven't had a severe craving to the point where I want to quit or even to the point where I've been super restless, largely because they keep us busy.

Poppers however... on day 2 I was having a fucking breakdown. On the floor sobbing. I went out for a smoke and one of the girls, call her Lisa, was out. I told her how bad I wanted to rip a popper and she said this: "What if you sucked really hard on the cigarette, held it in, then exhaled?" And it fucking worked. Instant headrush. Only about 20% as good as a real popper, but enough that I instantly felt better. Homegirl is a life-saver; I never would've even thought of that because I'd never imagined it would work. Part of doing a popper is smoking a piece of unfiltered cigarette very quickly, so I assumed smoking through a filter wouldn't get the job done.

I miss my kitty, but I'm not homesick like everyone else. They all have kids and 3 are in long-term relationships. 2 are likely going to prison for shit they did while fucked up on opioids and want to show the court that they're working to better themselves and get clean. They have reasons to quit. I... I feel like I really don't.

Yeah, my health has been slowly deteriorating for the past 4-5 years, and I've been very overweight for the past 2-3 years (beer belly), and I spend more money on alcohol than I'd like to admit, but what I spend in a year, Lisa spends on heroin in a weekend. To make things harder for myself, I literally have not had a hangover in 2+ years. I could drink a 26er in 4 hours and wake up absolutely fine.

But I know that my way of life, getting blackout drunk 7 days a week, isn't sustainable. I know that some alcoholics do that for 50+ years, but I'm still pretty young, and I don't want to wake up at age 40 realizing I've pissed away 1/3rd of my life just being drunk.

I guess, when I really boil it down, I want to go back to who I was before I started drinking. I had so much potential to do great things when I graduated high school, and since then it's been a steady decline in my productivity and motivation.

Something that's surprised me about being here is that I've gotten more shit done in the past week than I do most MONTHS. There's a piano that I play for an hour a day, which I haven't done since I was a teenager. There's a treadmill I've used a few times. There's enough down-time for me to work on some embroidery and drawing, but most importantly, I started writing again.

I "finished" my first novel 8 years ago, and I've been trying to rewrite it in its entirety ever since. Draft One was 150,000 words, and Rewrite has been stuck at 25k for almost 2 years now. After a week, it's up to 35k.

And I think I have to attribute this to my lack of drinking. I never realized just how much it affected my motivation before. I used to open the document, force myself to crunch out a paragraph or two and then put it back on the shelf for a few months.

Now, I'm not forcing anything. It's coming to me. I'm inspired. I'm confident. I'm excited.

I've been feeling like I'd lost my spark, my drive to create things, for years now. And it's only been 2 weeks sober and I'm getting that spark back. I guess I do have a reason to quit: I'm not going to accomplish anything, or at least not anything I'm excited about, if I go back to drinking.

Another thing I've noticed is that I'm much more process-oriented. The task of writing always seemed too daunting and stressful because I just want the fucker to be done already. Now, I'm truly enjoying just getting through a scene or chapter. Even just a clever turn of phrase releases the Happy Chemical for me now.

To wrap up this absolute saga of epic length, I want to talk about the people a bit more. It's pretty rare that I get put into a group of people and I genuinely like all of them and none of them annoy me. The last time I was in a classroom with others, we were literally "learning" to identify parts of sentences and doing absolute beginner-level word processing. It was agonizing, because every single person in that class was a fucking idiot and would ask the stupidest questions, take forever to read a paragraph aloud while mispronouncing very common words. I'm not being a know-it-all dick, either. It's objectively true. How do I know? Out of 25, only me and one other person passed the course despite them all attending class regularly.

All that to say, these people are genuinely smart and likeable. John is an absolute encyclopedia on guitars, machinery, cars, and has done pretty much every skilled trade under the sun. He's also had a lot of interesting life experiences. Rick is a yoga guru who brought 12 books ranging from Zen Buddhism to abstract physics, and while I don't believe in 'chakras' and 'healing energies', he doesn't annoy me because he really only talks about it in relation to himself and how it's helped him, which I can respect. Christy is a PSW, and I mention that because she has a way of phrasing things in a wise, educated way, because that's how PSWs get good: they learn to communicate very well. She actually native and lives on a reserve, so she always has something interesting to talk about. Lisa is so well-traveled that when I mentioned I could name all the capitals, she pulled out fucking Tajikistan. She'd never been there. She's also South African and lived during apartheid, and is much more knowledgeable on the subject than myself, and I consider myself pretty well-read on it.

There's no stupid questions that take up half the class to answer, nobody takes 15 minutes to read a paragraph, and everyone is truly putting in the work.

I'm still nervous about coming back home, but my worries get less and less daunting with each passing day.

One week down, 2 more to go. Back at 'er at 9am tomorrow, rain or shine.

Stay Greater, Flamingos.