bigsombrero

I went to an in-patient treatment center with mixed clientele. There were addicts of all kinds as well as alcoholics. For whatever reason, I was placed into a "group" with some of the worst criminal offenders at the center. We attended counceling sessions together every day and also were assigned to the same lunch/breakfast/dinner table. A couple of guys had just been released from prison downstate (not jail), a couple of other guys were on their way to the Pen after their stay, and we also had heroin dealers from the streets, and another guy from the motorcycle club up on the Indian Reservations up north. These were hardcore guys.

Our pride and ego was not only squashed, it was beaten to a bloody pulp. We were fools, jackasses, troublesome no-good mongrels who had given our families and friends nothing but pain. We were instructed to list, in front of the class, all of the terrible things we had done while drinking. One guy was made to write a letter to his wife and son and tell them why drinking and drugs were more important to him. He had to read it to all of us and was bawling. I thought I could get away from criticism but I was wrong, I was equally shamed and any pride I had was beaten down. This was military-style hazing, breaking us down one-by-one....

But you know what? We also were built back up. We got hugs, we got pats on the back. We were praised when we showed progress. We needed to change, plain and simple. We needed to be told that our old lives were not worth one single penny. At least, it worked for me.

I am smart enough to know that my old life wasn't complete garbage. And I feel quite confident and happy with myself today. But it certainly helped me when I got that slap in the face when I first tasted recovery. I needed it, because I didn't think I really had a problem. Maybe it doesn't work for everyone but it was good for me to be broken down, to be honest.