Treatment

   “How are you feeling today?” Maria asked me. 

“I uh—” I rubbed my thumb and forefinger along my forehead. “I feel ok. Tired, but ok.” 

    “It’s ok to feel tired, you’ve walked a long road.” She jots down a few scribbles in her notes. “Your symptoms?” 

   “My legs are a little restless still, and my appetites not the greatest lately, but we're getting there.” I shrugged my shoulders. 

    “These are all normal things.” Maria stood from the chair behind her desk. “If all goes well, you should be home in a week or two. It's ok to be nervous. Best run along to breakfast, I think Jerry made waffles with sausage.” She smiled and walked to open her office door for me. 

     I walked through the carpeted, painfully white walled hallway to the cafeteria. Three long tables spanned most of the area in the room, surrounded by white plastic folding chairs. In those chairs, sat almost two dozen other boys and girls. Separated of course. I wandered over to an empty chair, next to my roommate, Shawn. He was a large boy, he stood about six foot two inches tall on his feet. His hair was curled into a short cut afro, and his skin resembled fine teak. 

   “How’d your session go bro?” He asked, with a mouthful of sausage. 

“It was ok. I might be going home soon.” I answered with a shrug and started pouring syrup on my waffles. 

   “That’s awesome bro.” Shawn smiled. 

I shrugged again, and tried to hide the expression of uncertainty on my face. I did a poor job apparently. 

    “Is it not awesome?” He asked, curious. 

“I just—I don’t know man, I’ve been here almost a month and I still don’t feel great.” I answered with reluctance. 

   “You’ll get home and that’ll all go away.” Shawn laughed. 

“Yeah.” I answered and started stuffing my face. 

     It sounds great…until I am in my thoughts with freedom again. I thought to myself.  

As we all finished up breakfast, one of the staff members announced the end of meal time. “Time for group!” She shouted. 

   The tech, Tina, led us all into the family room. An open space, with a hardwood floor and old somewhat smelly brown couches. One of the counselors sat in the center of the room, inside a circle of even more plastic folding chairs. 

   “Good morning.” He had a bright smile on his face. 

 Dan had always been one of my favorites. He was a corrections officer before coming to work here. Despite his background, he was one of the most understanding and seemingly caring staff members in the facility. 

   “Today’s topic is coping mechanisms.” Dan held his bright smile, through red chubby cheeks. 

We all sat down, and began going around the circle. Each of us had to name a healthy coping mechanism. 

   “Playing basketball, or other sports.” A small girl answered. 

“Reading a book.” Another boy had said. 

    “Talkin’ to bitches.” My friend Kyle had said, jokingly. 

“Language young man.” Dan muttered, but laughed as he did so. 

     They all make a joke of it. I thought. 

 Most of the other young men and women here, had to be here. Whether it was court mandated, or their religious parents found a joint in their underwear drawer; one way or another they were forced here. 

   The circle finally fell on me. “Go for a walk in the woods and fish.” 

“That’s a good one.” Dan answered and continued to listen to the other answers. 

   The group had finished their replies, and Dan began the session. He had dove into the how to’s and the do’s and don’ts of coping mechanisms. The whole idea, of all of what was taught here, was to prepare you to live successfully in the real world; after your addiction. My problem as of late, was those first few terrifying days back home. In here, if you have some sort of urge or craving, you can just talk to someone or let it pass. Those were your only choices really. Out there, you have access to every bad habit at the tips of your fingers. 

    “I get sick of listening to that man ramble somedays.” Kyle muttered as we cleaned up the group circle. 

     “He’s just doing his job, they all mean well.” I tried to defend Dan, although I got sick of group most days too. 

    We all found a respective spot on the couches and enjoyed our little bit of free time before yet another group, or class. Normally we would have to go to school with the insufferable Mr.Dotti, but it was summer and school had ended. One of the boys, Jake, had put some old cartoons on the TV. A few of us just sat and played cards. 

    The next week flew by in the blink of an eye. Meal, group, meal, group, meal. The same order, the same type of groups everyday. Every other day we were allowed time outside. I wasn’t much of a basketball guy, but I played all the same and rather enjoyed it. I was not very good either, but they didn’t care. We were all just happy to be outside in the nice weather. 

    “Ben!” One of the Tech’s called me inside. “Maria wants to meet with you.” 

   Maria was my personal counselor, and she had taken a particular interest in me. Most of her other cases were just stoners, mandated to treatment for failing a drug test. It was rare, at least then, for a kid our age to have a real habit. 

   “Afternoon.” She smiled at me as I stepped in her office. “I have good news.” 

“Yeah?” I asked in reply. 

   “You will be going home on Monday.” 

Normally, that would make someone ecstatic. My stomach dropped. 

  I’m going home…I’m going home and I’m scared. 

Maria must’ve noticed the look in my eyes, and she placed a hand on mine. 

  “Look at me.” She said, with a half grin on her face. “You will be ok.” 

I wasn’t, at first, going to tell my concern to anyone but it just came out. “I am terrified Maria.” I looked back down at my feet. 

    “Terrified of what?” She asked, cocking her head, still smiling. 

“That the second I leave this place I am going to run and shoot all of my problems into my arm again.” 

    “That, is why I believe you are ready to leave.” 

  “But that doesn’t make any sense…can’t I just stay a little longer?” I asked, deep concern in my voice. 

   “The more comfortable you get in the security here, the harder it will be to survive out there.” Maria sighed. “Most of your peers can not wait to walk out those doors, so they can continue to get high. You are afraid to leave, because you do not want to use anymore.” 

   I had no words, not in that moment. 

  “I wish I could tell you that it’s over. But the hard part is not going through treatment, it’s leaving. Being left alone to your devices, and all you’ve known is using.”

    “I don’t want to live like that.” Was all I could say. 

“Then don’t.” Maria smiled, “That choice is all yours to make hun.” 

   My choice to make. 

 “You have a good head on your shoulders, and we’ve taught you all we can.” She stood as she does, at the end of our sessions. “It’s time to take your life back.” 

   Monday morning came quickly. I woke up, and made my bed. I had packed my bags the night prior, and all that was needed now was my ride. I ate a breakfast of eggs and bacon with a hashbrown for the last time with my friends. 

   “I’m going to miss you bro, no homo.” Shawn laughed. 

“Cut it with the no homo crap, I’ll miss you too bro but we can get together once you leave.” I laughed. 

   A serious look came across his face. “You’re going to be ok, yeah?” 

“I think so.” I said with a sigh. 

   “I lost a friend of mine while I was here, to heroin.” He held a stern glance. “I know a lot of us give you shit, for wanting to be sober. But listen, take care of yourself man, I don’t want to bury another friend.” He stood from his chair and grabbed me under my shoulders to lift me out of mine. For the first time in a long time, I felt the embrace of a friend. 

   After breakfast, I left the cafeteria and looked down the long hallway to see my mom. Huge smile on her face, and tears welling in her eyes. I rolled my suitcase along the carpet, reached my mom and hugged her. 

   “I’m so proud of you.” She mumbled through my shoulder as she squeezed me. 

“I know ma, thank you.” I answered, and let go of her. 

    Maria stood next to her, and she pulled me in for a hug. “You got this.” She pulled away and gave me a slight shake with her hands on my shoulders. “Go live your life kid.” 

   As I walked out the door, a strange sense of freedom washed over me. What seemed like an eternity a month ago, felt like a flash now. I had walked through those doors sick and broken. I was now leaving, still a little broken but slowly putting myself back together, piece by piece. I sighed deep, and turned to look at the old building one last time. I felt grateful for the staff, program and especially to all of the friends I made along the way. A slight smile cracked my face, and I looked down at my suitcase. 

    My choice to make… 

   “You ok?” My mom asked, placing a hand on my back. 

“Yeah…” I smiled and looked at her, “Yeah, I’m just fine.” and I stepped into my moms car, and drove away from the place that now, felt so close to home in my heart.