Objectively, inpatient rehab is a pain in the ass. It costs a fortune (even with good insurance, I ended up paying almost $7k out of pocket in total), taking a month off is rough (I didn't know if I'd even have a job when I returned), and it's tough to get over the stigma of being one of "those" people who needed to be institutionalized.
But when faced with death, as this disease will always end up doing, rehab is a breath of fresh air. I look back on the experience and think, "when else in my life will I have had the opportunity to take 30 days to just work on myself without any distractions?" It really was a game changer for me. That's not to say it is for everyone. I remember talking to guys who were in there for the 3rd, 7th, even 20th time. It scared the sh!t out of me. I didn't want to have to go back there. But I have noticed a direct correlation between willingness to follow the directions and suggestions made in rehab and those who remained sober once they got out. Those that fought the process almost always failed.
One of the main thing I learned is that I belonged there. I earned myself a bed there with my reckless behavior. So I surrendered to the process.
Every week, we would rotate small groups that focused on a specific area. Things like relapse prevention, meditation, men's and women's issues, etc. I was put in the grief and loss group twice! I've never really lost anyone so I wondered why they kept putting me in there. It dawned on me that I had lost myself. I was but a shell of a human being.
I was also put in the "high risk" group twice. This is like the remedial class for rehab. The worst of the worst when it came to drug addict and alcoholic fu(k ups. But again, I belonged there, and that class helped me so much in terms moving forward as a successful, sober person.
And now, for Sass - my AA confessions from attending around 400 meetings in 16+ months:
1. I didn't go to my home group today because I needed sleep instead. I don't go to a meeting every day (usually 3-5 per week, depending on work schedule). But I did do 90 meetings in 90 days when I got out of rehab. My sponsor told me to do it so I did.
2. I hate when people share the same crap over and over. It used to drive me so crazy. But my sponsor, in his 9 years of sobriety wisdom told me a story. When he was new to the program, there was a guy who would stand up and share the exact same thing every meeting. Literally, word for word. He developed a resentment towards this guy. "Why does he keep hijacking the meeting? How is this helping anyone?" So his sponsor pointed out to him that this guy had 15 years of sobriety. If saying the same damn thing over and over helped him stay sober, then more power to him. Who am I to judge? So that's the way I look at it now.
3. Not every meeting is life-changing. Sometimes I get bored. Many times, I read SR in meetings. But just being in a room full of people who think the way I do is comforting in and of itself.
4. When I first started going to meetings, everyone felt the need to tell me how I need to do what they did to get sober. I listened and learned a few things, but I mostly tuned it out. Instead, I just followed the suggestions of my sponsor because I trusted his counsel and we have a similar way of thinking and approaching situations. We're on the same page. Luckily, the preaching stops once those biddies start seeing you regularly. If you're sober and on track, there is nothing for them to preach about.
5. Many times, I just go to meetings to hang out with my friends. But usually I get a good nugget or two of inspiration or perspective along the way.
6. Sometimes I go to meetings I've never gone to before just because I need a new environment and I'm tired of my friends blabbing about the same crap time and again.
7. I've gone to many meetings just one time and have never gone back. Maybe I didn't like the vibe or the people. Maybe people were too preachy on the god thing. Maybe the room didn't have adequate air-conditioning or heat. Maybe the chairs were uncomfortable. But it trying all of these different meetings, I've found about a dozen that I can consistently go to and feel comfortable. All within walking distance of my apartment. And I've been doing this long enough that I know that whatever meeting I go to in the area, I know I'll end up seeing someone I know.
8. I hate the stupid slogans like, "take what you need and leave the rest behind," or "it only works if you work it." Yet I find myself repeating the same crap to myself. They may be cliches, but they are cliches for a reason. I think my gf is tired of hearing them lol.
9. At the suggestion of my sponsor, I do not mention the fact that I take klonopin for my severe anxiety disorder on a group level. I don't need to be preached at that I'm not sober or I'm heading for relapse just because I take a prescribed medication responsibly and they couldn't.
10. I have to remind myself regularly that AA is full of really sick people, even those with years of sobriety. I chaired a step meeting a few months back on the 12th step (working with others) and an old-timer raised his hand and ranted about how he no longer helps people because people don't take sobriety seriously. He said that if someone couldn't stay sober, they should just put a gun in their mouth and pull the trigger. This was in a room full of young people and beginners. And I was helpless to stop it. Thankfully, some friends of mine shared in response about how AA is an inclusive environment and that we are there to support instead of admonish. That guy never came back. Thank god.
AA isn't perfect. But it works for me. I don't care why or how. I don't question the methodology or the alleged success or failure rates. I just do what I'm told to do by people I trust who have years of sobriety and live happy, productive, NORMAL lives. I was at a meeting on Monday, and this guy shared who is a pillar in the local AA community. He has 27 year sober, sponsors several men, has a beautiful, supportive wife, well-adjusted children and a successful business. He shared that he was dealing with some personal issues and wanted to punch every single person in the room in the face. But he wasn't going to drink over it. That's the kind of honesty that keeps me coming back to AA. Not the preachy, know-it-all, big-book thumpers. It's the honest people who deal with real problems and still don't drink.