Rehab Had Rejected Me!
Just when I thought I was really starting to understand things about myself and my drinking, I was blindsided and dragged into an administrative office to have a personal chat with therapeutic staff.
“You need to dress more appropriately in here,” they said carefully. “If you are going to continue wearing tank tops, you need to wear a bra under them.”
“But the straps will show,” I said. “And I haven’t worn a bra in years! I don’t even own one.”
“You’ve got to follow the dress code,” they said. “We can provide you with a bra, or you can stop wearing tank tops.”
“But everything is covered!” I wailed. “This is how I dress!”
They reiterated their point, then sent me to my room put on a t-shirt over my tank top.
I was furious. I’m finally sober and they’re trying to change me! This felt like high school. Worse, it felt like they had rejected me. Rehab had rejected me!
So I left.
I walked out of my room, down the stairs, and out the back door. And I just kept on walking.
I stormed off the hospital grounds and came to a steep, dirt hill that led straight down into a lush green forest. I skidded down the hill, figuring I’d eventually find a road and hitchhike to somewhere.
My thoughts burned my brain: They want me to change who I am! I should be able to wear what I want. I should be accepted for who I am! I’ve never been accepted for who I am. If they can’t accept me at rehab, I’ll never be accepted anywhere. I hate this place. I want to die. I have no reason to live! There’s sure no reason for me to quit drinking. I will never fit in.
As these ever-familiar ideas churned, I skidded downhill like I was skiing. Eventually I hit the end of the dirt and was thrust into trees and brush as far as I could see. I stomped through the woods, cracking sticks with my shoes – they made me wear shoes! – whacking branches out of my face, fuming inside and surrounded by nothing but leafy green outside.
A fallen log provided me with a good stopping point. I sat down on the log and buried my head in my hands. What am I going to do now? Rehab was all I had!
When I stopped seething, I lifted my head. WHOOSH! Something fast and brilliantly blue whizzed right past my head.
What the heck was that!
Another one whooshed by. It was a bird! A really bright blue bird. A bluebird! There were dozens of them! Flying blue dots sparkled around me. As I watched, I saw yellow ones, too – goldfinches! – their beaming yellows just as bright as the blue ones. I’d had no idea these birds existed and here I was, enveloped by their sudden, spectacular brilliance, their songs finally hitting my ears.
I breathed. Suddenly the world felt magical.
Surrounded by nature’s version of a laser light show, I gaped, holding my breath. Humbled and moved almost to tears by this beautiful display, I remembered God. It was impossible not to feel accepted, loved, even treasured among all this beauty.
Maybe I hadn’t been rejected by the world. I’d just been told to change my clothes. Maybe my life wasn’t over after all. Maybe someday I could be included in this magical place.
Eventually I emerged from the woods, lighter somehow, and climbed the enormous hill back to rehab, where nobody seemed to have even noticed that I’d been gone.