Rehab Journal

Day Eleven:

Another emotional morning. I seem to be the only resident oblivious to the drama that happened in the middle of the night. I woke and sleepily stumbled out for my morning cigarette. I was alone at first, refreshed and enjoying the sun trying to pop out behind the clouds, when two ladies plopped down on the benches, and the drama ensued. "Mel left in the middle of the night last night. I can't believe she did that..." blah, blah, insult, insult. It was such a shock for me I began crying, especially the more that they insulted and judged her. I wanted to scream at them, but all I could do was cry. They finally took notice of me, which I was hoping they wouldn't. Suddenly, they were all concern and compassion. They asked me to process, to share with them, and normally I would have, as they are two women I am fairly close to. But this time, I just couldn't. I got up and told them I needed some time to myself. I walked back inside, looked around, and behind my tears I became so angry. There was no stinking place for me to be alone and cry, no privacy at all. I ran into a shower room and locked the door, sobbed for five seconds until someone knocked on the door. Alone time over! I snuck into my bathroom in my shared room and cried as quietly as I could so I wouldn't wake up my roommates. So, why all the crying, you ask? I felt such a loss, as if Mel had died or abandoned me. I don't know why I felt that way, but the sorrow was so over-powering. But angry as well, pissed off that she could just give up like that, let her demons take over, just run away when people, when I needed her support. I skulked around depressed for the next few hours, took a nap, did the dishes, got dolled up for my visit with my boyfriend, and I began to feel much better, more accepting of her decision. Her decision, her life, not my responsibility. My recovery, my life, my responsibility. By 6 pm, I was laughing, uplifted, and relieved. Whew!