Where is Home Now

“Do you have any fears about returning to normal life?” 

It was a simple question but it held so much meaning. I stared vacantly at Lisa as I tried to form a sentence together that would summarise what I was feeling. The truth was  there weren't enough words in the world to describe everything I was feeling in that moment.

“Honestly...” I began my voice coming out in a nervous croak. “I don’t know. But I’m ready to try.” 

Lisa paused as if she were taking a moment to process what I was saying and deeply analyse my answer. I suppose it’s the natural response of a counsellor, particularly when supporting someone in recovery. That’s me! Alice Jemima Button. An alcoholic with generalised anxiety disorder. Correction. An ex-alcoholic with generalised anxiety disorder. Finally Lisa broke the unwelcome silence. 

“Well that’s only natural in your situation. You’ve completed a three month programme. You’ve made exceptional progress. You’ve followed every part of your recovery plan. You’ve contributed to all group sessions and activities and you’ve made amends…”

“Well where it was possible.” I told her abruptly. I was desperately trying to use a tone of voice that showed no signs of bitterness or resentment. 

“Yes.” Lisa said through pursed lips as she eyed me suspiciously. “I know your Mother not coming to hear what you had to say was very upsetting for you. But it's important that you don’t allow this one set back to affect your recovery. With some people you have to wait until they’re ready to hear what you have to say.” 

I nodded in acknowledgement. I was desperate to change the subject. 

“Alice.” Lisa said to me softly. I looked up to meet her gaze. As I looked into her hazel eyes, I recognised something I had never noticed before. A genuine concern for my well being. “Please promise me you’ll join a local AA meeting and get a sponsor as soon as possible!”

“I promise Lisa.” I told her as a beaming smile spread across her face.  

I meant it. It was a genuine promise. For the first time in five years I was ready to commit to change. I was ready to say yes to sobriety. Lisa brought our meeting to a close. Finishing up by reaching out to shake my hand, she congratulated me and wished me luck in my new life. The next half hour was a blur. I packed up my belongings. It didn’t take long to pack a single suitcase and rucksack. This was followed by a flurry of goodbyes and well wishes from the staff and patients. Finally I was able to get to reception. To the exit. Face to face with the hard part. Getting my belongings back. These were my connections to the outside world, the only things left to remind me of my old life.  I looked at the contents of the brown envelope as Mary the Receptionist passed it back to me. I took a peep inside. The contents were minimal. There was my battered Harry Potter print purse, my chain of keys attached to diamond encrusted letter A key ring, my driving license with it’s old outdated photo and my Iphone. The Iphone, although the most simple of inventions, held a trigger and memories to my old life and the old me. Within a second I rashly retrieved three of the four items and shoved the envelope back towards Mary. As she went to put the envelope back in the draw she paused as she felt something in the envelope and quickly looked into the envelope and then back at me. 

“You’ve left your phone in there.” She gestured to the envelope. 

“I know.” I confirmed with a cheery smile. “I don’t want it. Throw it away. Give it to someone else. I don’t care. I don’t need it anymore.”

Mary eyed me suspiciously as she placed the envelope back in the draw and swiftly changed the subject. 

“Your taxi is waiting outside. Congratulations you are all done and off home. “ Mary said unenthusiastically as she gestured towards the door. 

Home. I thought to myself worryingly. Sure. Off to home I go. In a rush I scurried out of the facility without so much as a backwards glance. The taxi driver, a rather pleasant looking middle aged man, hopped out of his car on my arrival to take my bags. 

“Don’t worry about that Miss.” He said, shooing my hands away from bags. “You go get in the car. I’ll get the bags.”

Taken aback by his chivalry I reluctantly passed over my luggage and made myself comfortable in the backseat of the car. It was fairly stuffy in the summer heat and I worried my legs would end up sweating and sticking to the leather seats. But it wasn’t a long journey home so I could tolerate it. I was shortly rejoined by the taxi driver. 

“Right.” He said as he wiped the sweat from the top of his bald head. “Off to Nottingham?” 

I nodded with uncertainty. The several references that morning made to going home made my stomach feel uneasy. 

The car engine suddenly buzzed to life and we were soon driving down the driveway. I turned back to take a last glance at the place I had stayed at for the past three months. This moment reminded me of family holidays when I was younger.  Whenever we drove away on the last day I would take a look back at the place we stayed and promised to come back some day. I didn't feel compelled to do that this time. Pine Spring Rehabilitation Facility wasn’t somewhere I intended to return to. The rough voice of the taxi driver brought me out of my deep thoughts. 

“I was surprised to be picking up someone so young. Don’t all you young people use Uber these days?” 

I feigned interest by politely chuckling at his comment. 

“I didn’t book the taxi the facility did. Besides, I don’t have a phone.”

The man looked at me oddly. 

“How do you not have a phone? Do they take all your rights away in that place?” 

I knew very well when he referred to it as ‘that place’ that he knew exactly what sort of place it was. Choosing to glance over his slightly insensitive comment I replied simply with. 

“No, you get it back when you leave. But I didn’t want mine back. Too many ties to my old life.” 

I knew I had said too much. The atmosphere had turned from awkward to just positively uncomfortable. He must have thought so too as a sudden silence fell upon the car. The drive back to my home shouldn’t take too long. I hadn’t been far from home.  But as we moved closer to civilization and nearer to busier places, more cars appeared on the road and the taxi drivers speed began to decline. Soon enough we had come to a complete standstill in traffic with cars lined up back to back. As I turned to peer out the window and look ahead I could make out an ambulance and police cars. The taxi driver must have noticed me looking as he suddenly spoke again. 

“There must have been some sort of accident. We could be here for a while?”

I let out a sigh. Slightly out of relief that I wouldn't be getting home just yet. The taxi driver must have mistook this for frustration as he suddenly came over all sympathetic.  

“What a terrible first day of freedom for you! You’ve come out of that place and now you’re stuck in terrible traffic!”

“First day of freedom! It’s not a prison, I was in a recovery facility!” I snapped at him feeling irritable all of a sudden.

“I’m sorry Miss. I didn’t mean to offend you.” The taxi driver replied sadly.

I instantly felt guilty. This man meant well and I wasn’t even offended by anything he had said. I was just projecting my anxiety at the wrong person. More to the point at the wrong situation. Taking a moment to take a deep breath and compose myself. I remembered my manners and struck up a polite conversation. 

“My name is Alice. What is yours?” 

“Harry.” He told me with a toothy grin. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Alice. I’m really sorry if I offended you?”

I shook my head insistently. “Don’t worry Harry. It’s not your fault I’ve been stuck in that place for three months and going home is just a bit overwhelming.”

“Is home not where your family are?” He inquired. 

It’s where the trouble is. I thought to myself frantically. 

“Yes they are. But that’s not the problem. Let’s just say they’re not all going to be happy to see me.” I told him honestly.

The traffic remained at a standstill so Harry took the opportunity to turn and face me. He wore a very sweet look on his face. The sort of look you would receive from a loving uncle or devoted grandfather. 

“Why not? If you’ve spent time in the facility for whatever reason so I’m presuming you’re on the road to recovery?”

At this point I would usually tell a stranger to kindly mind their own business. However, I oddly found myself opening up to Harry. I wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it’s because I knew I would never see him again so it was easy to pour out my heart.

“Well I am on the road to recovery. I made amends. My father and sister listened and forgave me. A couple of my friends have, well, the ones I am still allowed to be in contact with. But my mother still isn’t talking to me.”

“Oh I see. Surely whatever you did isn’t that bad? I have a daughter and she could never do anything that I wouldn’t forgive.” Harry said so matter of factly. 

I smiled at him sweetly, he clearly looked at life through rose tinted glasses. 

“Well I did a lot wrong. I’m an ex-alcoholic. In recovery now. Three months sober. But during that time of my life I did a lot wrong.” I confessed. It was the first time I had admitted this to anyone without crying pitifully. 

“Well we have time.” Harry told me as he gestured towards the traffic. “I’m all ears.” 

Where did I start?

“Well I was an alcoholic for five years. I stole money from my mother. I turned up to our family functions drunk. I caused several fights between myself and my mother and with others. I once got a DUI. I trashed my mother’s house. It was all because I had an alcohol dependency. But the worst thing I ever did and the one thing that is most likely unforgivable is that I slept with my mother’s boyfriend.”

I admitted it all with a huge sense of shame and no tears. That was a first.  But what was more astonishing was Harry’s reaction to my confession. He didn’t tell me what a horrible human being I was, he didn’t look at me in repulse, in fact he didn’t even comment on the things I had admitted to doing. 

He simply looked at me sympathetically before finally saying. “That is a lot to forgive.”

I nodded before continuing to talk. 

“I tried to make amends as part of the programme. But unfortunately she isn’t ready to accept my apology or forgive me.” 

“Is that why you’re not excited to go home?” He asked me.

We shared a look. Harry was the first person outside of the programme to show me kindness. The first person to understand and the first person to see how I felt. Fear. Worry. Anxiety. 

“Yes.” I agreed. “Going home means going back to the place where I lived my old life as an alcoholic. Back to a home full of bad memories. Back to a family that I’ve drifted apart from.”

“Well maybe you don’t have to stay home. Maybe you could move?” Harry suggested optimistically.

I mulled over his words for a few moments. I replayed them in my head again and again as they began to sink in. Eventually  Harry's talking once again brought me back to reality.

"Right the traffic is moving again. We're on our way again." He said cheerfully before adding. "All I can say Alice is you should be proud of your recovery and I promise you things will get better." 

My mind was moving at a million miles per hour. Harry's words had resonated with me in a way I never expected. Maybe I didn't have to go home? More to the point the closer I got the more I knew I couldn't return home. I couldn't return to the same flat when I was a new and improved person. Why did I have to? Most of my friends I had to say goodbye to because they were a part of my pre-sober life. The only family I had was my father and sister and they were always busy. Who knew if Mother would ever speak to me again? I couldn't imagine staying somewhere when I was a ten minute walk from the parent who had practically disowned me. No. I couldn't return home. I knew everything I was thinking went against the rules of sobriety. But I also knew that if I was going to commit to living a new sober life and be the new better Alice, I knew I couldn't do it here. I couldn't return home.  I wouldn't return home. 

"Actually Harry." I said drastically. "There's a change of plan. You're not taking me home. You're taking me to the train station." 

"Really Miss Alice?" Harry asked me as he looked at me blankly. "Where are you going to go?" 

"I don't know." I admitted as a smile spread across my face. 

It was true. I didn't have a clue where I was going. I had plenty of money in the bank but no specific place in mind. But one thing I was sure of was I was going to be a better version of me wherever I ended up.