#rehab for alcohol

[drug-rehab-centre]

Your pet can faster your recovery from addiction| Drug rehab center

Having a pet strengthens mental health, and physical health, attracts positivity, and the individual does not feel lonely. Pets don't expect anything in return except your love.

Addicted people enroll in drug rehab center like Navchetna Kendra to obtain their routine life. The path of recovery is quite challenging as they have to stay away from their family. They have to undergo the detox program treatment. The rehab center structures the proper routine for day-to-day activities. It includes exercise, meditation, medicinal treatment, and co-curricular & physical activities to alter the addiction and cope with the cravings for substances.

Addiction impacts our personal life and professional life. It affects our social life, and relationships and sometimes creates a void that is hard to rebuild.

During the rehab consultation program from alcohol addition treatment a person needs emotional and mental support. A person can’t be around you the whole day so it's best to bring a pet and spend time. Go for a walk, play with them, and take care of them. When you are busy with your pet who will soon become your friend and family member you don't have time to think about your cravings and consumption of drugs. You will always be in a cheerful & happy mood.

Pets will help you to construct a new healthy routine and boost your mental and physical strength. You will get more active and focused avoiding procrastination and disruption.

[hyena-matas]

Hi from rehab😊 dm if you wanna cheer me up

[failbaby]

Haven’t known exactly how to articulate this but it truly bothers me that the audience is supposed to buy into Ted’s narrative about Jamie’s dad and not Georgie’s.

Like. Ted is missing so much context about Jamie’s upbringing. He genuinely doesn’t know shit. His perception of James is entirely based upon a couple of vague anecdotes from Jamie, two impersonal encounters with the man, and (most of all) projections of his relationship with his own parents + his insecurities about being a bad father (even though neither he nor his parents are anything like James and the situations aren’t remotely comparable). God love him, he absolutely doesn’t get it!!!

Georgie, on the other hand, has personally, intimately known James for decades, and she knows him as a horrible man who does horrible things to her baby (and almost definitely to her as well) time and time again. She knows from actual experience that James is inconsistent and doesn’t keep his word. She knows that he’s a destructive force in Jamie’s life. She knows that he promises to change and then doesn’t. She knows that he’s the type of man to force his way back into their lives, promise to be a better father, bring her little boy on a big exciting father/son bonding trip to Amsterdam, and somehow fuck it up so completely that he refuses to talk about it and is never really the same again.

So she says to Jamie, your father is who he is, he’s never going to change, and it’s okay to give up on him and move on and make peace with life without him.

And apparently, she’s fucking wrong! She’s wrong about him, and he IS going to change! She doesn’t understand the man who abused her for twenty years like Ted does, because she’s a cynic who hasn’t been wised to The Lasso Way! The REAL wisdom is that hurt people hurt people!!!! Get this toerag back into Jamie’s life!!!!!

It just seems like such a disservice to this character and everything she’s been through and her relationship with Jamie for her to be wrong and Ted to be right and Jamie to ignore her and pursue a relationship with his father. Give me a break

[pursuitofhappiiiiness]

39 days clean today ❤️

[queerism1969]

[zilabee]

“I had a real bad alcohol problem. Very few people in the public—no one in the public—knew my problem. We could hide it from them. We could go out and put the bow tie on, and we could wave to the cameras and they’d say, ‘There he goes, good old Ringo.’ But we’d be maintaining at those moments. We’d be dashing home right after it.” [...]

Ringo’s alcohol addiction was so strong that he drank himself into oblivion on the flight to Arizona. “I landed drunk as a skunk at the clinic,” he said. “I drank all the way and got off the plane completely demented. I thought I was going to a lunatic asylum. 

I thought I’d gone too far and they were going to put me away in a little cell and forget about me. Instead of that, they put their arms around me and loved me and told me it [would] get better. ‘Give us a chance,’ they said. With God’s help a day at a time it certainly has.” 

The five-week course of treatment reportedly cost $35,000 per person. Upon their arrival at [The Sierra Tucson Rehab Center], Ringo and Barbara were put in separate rooms with no televisions or phones. “Eight days in, I decided, ‘I’m here to get help because I know I’m sick,’” Ringo said. “And I just did whatever they asked me and, thank God, it pulled me through.” [...]

Ringo and Barbara were given no preferential treatment. They worked at assigned menial jobs, did their laundry, cleaned ashtrays, and were in bed early. They also attended group therapy sessions and counselling sessions. 

“Until I got to the clinic I didn’t realize I was from a dysfunctional family,” Ringo said later. “We had parties, everyone gets drunk and passed out, and that’s part of life. My mother always told me that when I was nine, I was on my knees crawling drunk. A friend of mine’s father had all the booze ready for Christmas, and we decided to try all of it. I don’t remember too much. That was my first blackout. 

“You always think you’re witty on alcohol and cocaine,” he said. “You think you’re so witty that you decide to tell the same story over and over and over and over and over again. To the same person. I meet people now . . . and I think, ‘God, was I like that?’ And a little voice inside says, ‘Yes, you were.’” 

Ringo: With a Little Help, by Michael Seth Starr

[wilder-and-lighter]

as a person who has struggled with alcohol addiction since they were 13, and as someone who watched people close to me lose their lives because of various forms of addiction, it is important to me that people know how many lives matthew perry touched. asking for help has always always always been a difficult process, and yes it is a process. there's the shame in people knowing. there's the shame in asking for help at all. but someone who always radiated such cool as matthew perry openly asking for help, and talking about recovery? i don't think people who haven't been through that will ever know how brave he was for that. and i just want to say he's done a lot of good in this world. he's helped people who didn't feel that they could ask for help, the people who were often told off for when they do. i know i have been.

i read his book a bit ago, at least, i listened to it. i encourage you to do the same. idk. i'm just feeling a lot around this time, but a lot more conscious of my recovery process and how much more impact he had on it than maybe i previously realized.

thank you, matthew perry. i could never thank you enough for the joy and the peace and the love in my life now.

[adventures-in-therapy]

[jayhaden]

60 Days Sober

Wow. Never thought I’d be able to say this. lol

[garbage--account]

Another random reddit post 'cause alcohol is bad, don't do it children :

[dreamwatch]

STWG daily drabble - 03/10/23

Prompt: Rehab

cw: alcoholism, depression, mention of suicidal ideation (no specifics), mention of scars, mentions of rehab, cw infidelity

****

Thirty days. He’d done thirty days.

They hadn’t been apart for that long… well, ever, now that he thought about it. While they weren’t really a thing when they left Hawkins, they were something. EddieandSteve, SteveandEddie, that weird coming together of two people so diametrically opposed that their friends and relatives still remarked on it now, twenty years later. The weirdest Ying and Yang ever, as Robin would say.

That they’d made it to twenty years, technically twenty years, four months and eighteen days, not that he’s counting, that they’d made it that long boggled even his mind. They always assumed that the scars, the ones people could see and the ones they couldn’t, would end up creating a fissure. That the fault line was there and the wrong comment, the wrong action would just tear it open and all the pain, all the emotional baggage would just gush out and drown them.

There were times, very occasional times, when the fault line cracked open a little and their feet got wet. The first time Eddie left, back in ninety three, so depressed and ground down by the world that they both thought he was going to do something stupid. Very nearly did something stupid. The depression was still there, they’d accepted it now, they just managed it as they went. They were a team. That’s how they coped.

Or when Steve, so exhausted by Eddie’s extreme moods, that he spent more and more time at work and less and less time at home. Spent more time with a work mate than he did with Eddie. Spent enough time with her that they ended up in her bed. That one nearly finished them off for good. But it’d been seven years since then, and they kept working at it, and it kept getting easier.

Scars were permanent reminders of an event. They both learned to deal with the physical ones a long time ago. Steve’s had faded enough that public swimming pools didn’t phase him anymore, but Eddie’s still looked angry on his pale skin even after all this time. So they rented private homes on vacation, places with pools so that Eddie could swim, skin to the air and water, without worrying about anyone looking.

But it had been the invisible ones that had cast the longest shadows over the last twenty years (and four months and eighteen days, not that he’s counting). The ones they’d both finally accepted they’d never truly be free from. The scars that made themselves known during the neighbourhood firework display. Or when a flock of birds flew across the sky, dark wings and caws as they swooped overhead.

The ones that left them wrung out and exhausted from nightmares so often that they took turns using the guest room so that at least one of them could get a good nights sleep. Not all the time, they wanted to be there for each other, needed to be there as much as they could. But they were barrelling into their forties (where did the time go?). They couldn’t operate the way they did when they first got together, they actually needed sleep to function now. And in Eddie’s case it wasn’t just about functioning, it was about keeping his mood somewhat on an even keel. It was about keeping him from places they couldn’t pull him back from. So yeah, a spare bed was a necessity in their home.

Sometimes the pain from those scars could be dulled, though. Weed. Prescription painkillers.

Alcohol.

It had been thirty one days since his last drink. 

The first week was fucking horrific, but he got through it. Just had to remember what he had at home. And the fact that it was court ordered rehab and he didn’t have a choice. He got lucky after the first DUI. Technically he got lucky after the second one. It could have been jail.

He felt… good? It’d been a while since he’d been this sober this long. He looked better, less sallow. He’d been eating better, too. He was filling out his clothes in places he hadn’t even noticed got loose. There were lots of things he hadn’t noticed.

He signed the release paperwork and picked up his bag before heading outside to the horrible bright orange Ford Ranger. He’d suggest getting a new car, but he wasn’t going to be driving anywhere for a while.

“Hey you,” he said, all casual like he hadn’t been away detoxing, having therapy, and generally crying and moaning for the last thirty days.

“‘Hey you’? That’s what you’re going with? ‘Hey you’?” 

He shrugged, a shy smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

“Get your ass over here, Harrington.”

It hit him all at once, the shame and the realisation of what he risked, what he could have lost. The last twenty years (and four months and eighteen days, not that he’s counting) with this man, with Eddie. His Eddie. All the good days, all the bad ones, all the boring ones in between.

EddieandSteve. SteveandEddie. 

“Oh, it’s Harrington, now?” Steve choked out, voice thick, eyes wet.

Eddie shook his head, “Come here.” They grabbed at each other like they were drowning, each of them a life raft for the other. 

“Let’s go home,” said Eddie.

Steve could only nod, out of words, overwhelmed. It wasn’t over. It wasn’t done just because he spent thirty days in rehab. It would be forever, like Eddie’s depression. But they’d coped with that, and Eddie told him they’d cope with this and he believed him. They’ve got this. 

They’re a team.

[calamitys-child]

It's really stressful coming into this fresh it's like if someone was only getting into pop punk in 2023. Like I need someone to put together a list of wrestlers I'm safely able to cheer and look at their skimpiest leather outfits with lust in my heart for vs wrestlers who are unsupportable and unfuckable due to heinous crimes. Every time I see a big sexy man I have to google him just to be safe

[scarfiend]

I graduated from IOP today. I have almost 9 months clean and sober as well.

[smashing-yng-man]

I've done it all - attended Alcoholics Anonymous twice a day, five days a week. Memorized the fourth edition of the "Big Book" from cover to cover. Admitted myself into two different rehabs, staying 60 days each time.

What has ultimately kept me sober from drinking is confiding in my therapist and taking a combination of Acamprosate and Naltrexone twice a day to curb alcohol cravings.

I drank heavily for nearly two decades, and frankly have the experience and genetic predisposition to confirm that addiction is not a choice.

But sobriety and self-care are.

[throwingselfoutwindow]

Little short fic for yall - as a treat

Drug addiction and childhood loss mentioned just a tw

Also, timeline wise, this is before the Tarlos fire but after they moved it

I wrote this in 30mins before I went to bed plz ignore how bad it is

TK never had siblings growing up.

The girl down the hall for Apartment Number 4 was close. He babysat her when both of their parents had work and TK had just gotten back from high school, and she elementary.

Other than that, TK had no prior experience to having siblings.

Judd did have siblings.

He had three older brothers in fact.

But never a younger brother.

Moving to Texas on his father’s whim was - as said many times before - the best thing that could have possibly happened to TK. He gained a wonderful and loving husband (hot as fuck too, but that is a less important detail), 4 best friends, and the closest thing he has to a big brother [Judd].

When Judd joined the new 126, he gained 4 new best friends and 1 baby brother.

Judd and he took sometime to get to where they are now, unlike how easy it was for them to make good with the others.

Judd and TK fought tooth and nail on just about everything up until TK became a paramedic unlike most people think.

After the first few mouths of being this close to beating the shit out of each other, things cooled down - sure. They even became friends. But they never really connected until TK changed careers.

It wasn’t until TK was a paramedic and sitting on a random curb in the middle of the night did TK gain an older brother.

It was cold, well colder than normal for Texas. It felt like a spring night in New York for TK, enough to make him shiver, but not wish for a jacket over his sweatshirt.

A truck had slowed as it passed him, parking moments later after a while.

Judd jumped out and called out to him, “Strand? The hell you doin’ out here kid?” Judd made his way over and crouched down in front of TK, taking his chin in his hand and scanning his face. “It’s freezing. Where’s ya jacket?”

A tiny grin brakes TK’s sullen face. “It’s not cold out.”

Judd only continues to frown. “Where did ya get the shiner?”

TK winces.

“Kid?”

Sighing, TK lulls his head up to look at the sky. He could see the stars better here than in New York. “You know, New York was always so polluted that seeing stars was kinda hard. This is the most I’ve ever seen in my life. Really makes you think just how big the galaxy is. You think there’s like.. aliens or something? Or like, bugs at least?”

“… are you… high?”

TK snorts, loudly. “No. Wish, but no.”

Then, Judd sits next to TK, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

It was weird.

But

It was also

Nice.

Ya, nice.

TK, slowly, leans into Judd’s side.

Then it all comes coming out.

“Carlos and I got into a fight about chicken of all things. It escalated pretty fast. To be fair, this fight has been brewing for a couple of weeks. We both said some stuff we didn’t mean. I left to get some air and went to see my dad to talk to him because I was getting the itch to use. He wasn’t home so I… walked.”

A beated breath.

“My feet just kinda moved and I ended up in an ally that happened to be selling. I swear I didn’t know. Just wrong place at wrong time. Anyway, I was this close to buying before I backed out. Dealer wasn’t all that happy.”

TK motions to his face with a grimace.

Judd’s arm tightens. “But you didn’t…”

“No. Really, I should get a gold star for that.”

They are quite for a long time. It wasn’t exactly awkward, but it wasn’t… not.

“Why are you out here?” TK asks suddenly.

Stuffing slightly before relaxing, Judd sighs. “I’m just having a night I suppose. Gracie is pulling a night-shift and I have the next two days off. I can’t get myself to sleep.”

Nodding, TK hums. “I get that. You know, my dad used to drive me around when I couldn’t sleep when I was younger. Which is weird now that I think about it because we didn’t have a car. He would call a taxi and just say ‘drive’ until I stopped crying.”

“How do you remember that?”

TK slides him a crooked grin. “This went well into my 20s actually. I had a very interesting upbringing and late teen experience. Riding at night was technically the only solid thing in my life,”

He sighs again, “When I first got into drugs, only a little bit of crap weed from a friend at school, I got into the late train and just… road. Did this all the time. Of course, the thing with my dad. When my parents first got divorced, I did something similar to that when they were too busy arguing to notice me slipping out of the door. When I broke up with my first real boyfriend, I bought a bike off a random guy on the street and road that until the chain snapped. Something about the wind calms me down.”

Listing intently to the story, Judd nods along. “I have something like that. Sorta. The part about the weird calming thing I mean.”

TK cocks his head slightly to show he is listen.

Taking a long breath, Judd scoots a little closer and TK smiles softly, just about snuggling back. “I was 12 when I lost my best friend, Cal.” TK’s hand slides onto his knee and squeezes it once before simply resting.

“We stole a car and went joy riding down the street and lost control. After that, I kinda stuck in this… cycle. I wouldn’t exactly say I was depressed - definitely was at first - but I wasn’t happy. I was just… breathing. Living. For a long time, I was angry.”

TK nods slightly. “I sorta understand. Had a friend who didn’t make it in highschool. We weren’t that close though.”

They fall quiet again for a long moment - remembering - before Judd continues.

“At first, I got into a lot of fights and stuff, before I got a reality check from my uncle. My dad sent me away that summer to my uncle’s farm. He worked me half to death. I was pissed almost the whole time up until he told me something that I still think about today.”

“You lost someone, but that ain’t mean we gotta lose someone too.”

“At first, I didn’t understand. Than I thought about it. I was this decently smart kid who always smiled. Then I was just mad all of the time. That was the first night I cried over it all. By the end of the summer, I was better. I was still messed up, obviously, but I wasn’t fighting every three seconds. When I get mad like I used to, I just… work. Doesn’t matter on what if we are being honest.”

TK’s hand squeezed his knee again.

“That’s honestly a bit of how I felt the first couple of months I moved here. Not completely, considering these are two completely different experiences, but close to.”

Judd only nods and looks away from the side of TK’s face - that was still staring up into the sky throughout the entire conversation. TK hums a bit when Judd tightens his arm for a second. “Want a ride back to your boy?”

A tiny smile makes TK’s face. “If you’re willing, I guess. He’s probably worried anyway. I forgot to grab my phone on the way out.”

Standing and taking TK with him, Judd leads TK to the passenger’s side of the truck and pushes him in. He rounds the truck and hops into the drivers.

The car ride is a comfortable silence.

[babyspacebatclone]

A reply from one of @spop-romanticizes-abuse ‘s posts.

It’s old, was ignored at the time, and I’ll follow their lead by not engaging with the poster directly and ask you all to do the same.

Catra lives rent free in my head?

You know what, fuck, yeah, she does.

You know who else lives rent free in my head?

Let’s see…

Note: Check out the trigger warnings at the top of under the cut.

I am only referring to them obliquely.

But I mean every one.

Trigger warnings:

Domestic Abuse, Spousal Abuse, No-Contact Orders, Traffic Accidents, Alcohol Abuse, Drug Abuse, Rehab, Arrests, Infidelity, Implied but not confirmed Child Abuse, Aggression in Children, PTSD, Night Terrors

We can start with the parents of one set of siblings at my daycare.

And the time the father was arrested in front of them.

Because he was caught speeding.

With his unmarried partner and their three kids in the car.

When she had a no contact order on him.

Or how about the mother of another set of four kids I’ve worked with, now mother of five?

Who was arrested and put into rehab when she crashed her car with the then-four kids in it. While intoxicated. Weed or alcohol, it could have been either.

The four siblings were separated between the then two baby-daddies.

Well, the second one took the younger two kids and has been an amazing father to them despite the fact the youngest in the most cliché way possible does not look like his White Hillbilly ass.

Actually, the months she was in rehab were the best for those kids, her reintegrating with the still-separated kids has gone better than I feared but, well, with the new baby (who doesn’t go to my daycare), you can imagine the bar I was expecting.

How about the mother of the preschooler we had to kick out of our center for aggression against staff and kids? The kid who openly lied about adults attempting to hurt him when they didn’t let him get his way, in a manner all the staff agreed felt if not coached then encouraged from said mother, potentially in regards to visits from the father…

And I never met him, so I live with the question - rent free in my head - if it had been justified or not.

Oh! How about the other kid we had to kick out for aggression, who would hit kids with a closed fist as a toddler??? Spoiler, that’s not the natural way a kid hits people.

…. I only have second-hand rumor about why the mother left biodad, but I’m sure you can imagine.

Oh, wait! I almost forgot!

The kid that left our center because her family had to move.

Into a shelter for domestic abuse victims.

The one that had screaming night terrors three times a week at nap time. For months.

Spoilers: While night terrors at that age can be caused from non-trauma sources, those are usually short term.

That one left pre-COVID, I haven’t actually spent time being enraged by that one in a while.

What with the previous ones all being 2021 to currenr.

So yeah!

Catra lives rent-free in my head.

I wonder fucking why??????