Tuesday, July 27, 2010

God help the Drunk

God help the Drunk

God reconcile and save,
because I already have one foot in the grave,
lying in a coma in a gutter of rain,
God can't you feel my pain,
Help me through this time of grief,
make it as beautiful as the shores of the Newport Reefs,
This is the last straw, I can't go on fighting,
Knowing that everyday I am dying,
Take the bottle out of my and,
Instead fill it up with sand,
Surfing is my passion and I can not lie,
But I can't surf anymore if I die,
So God, I ask you five me one more chance,
At a life worth living full of romance,
let me find love and peace of mind,
for that is something I've never been able to find,
God give me the wisdom to know the difference,
because my mind is clouded with nothing but indifference,
Show me another way, show me another way,
Let me go back sober to the Newport Bay,
With a surfboard under my arm ready to ride.
This ride of life, this ride of tides
Don't give up on me, I haven't given up on you,
Even though you make me feel very blue,
Thanks for your help, and thanks for listening,
For I will probably be drunk in the gutter whistling...

Sunday, July 11, 2010

Acceptance - Donna's First Step

Before a patient or resident is considered to have successfully completed treatment, they must complete a First Step assignment.  This is Donna's First Step assignment.  Donna is an older adult with chronic pain issues that was able successfully complete the program and enjoy recovery!

"I admit I was powerless over Xanax.  My life had become unmanageable.  The drug robbed me of gratitude and replaced them with fear.  I could no longer feel the gratefulness I had normally in my life of friends and family.
My sons became blurred in definition, my environment disintegrated into a lot of dust and there was the ever present hospital bed in the den.
The process of isolation began.  My nutrition and hydration was secondary to sleep.  I became socially withdrawn and sad.  The loneliness increased, but I was powerless to overcome it.  Showering was an exhaustive  process, and unsafe, as one of my legs became more numb, and weaker, following nerve damage.  So, cleanliness dropped off too.  I did occasionally sponge bathe.
As I grieved the loss of function of my leg and foot, the drug didn't allow me to process acceptance.  It promoted sleep and escape.  Communication was lost to me and I became an empty shell.  I began to tell untruths about myself to my sons.  I told them I was "okay" when I wasn't.  I lied to myself about my shakiness, that it wasn't drugs, I was just weak.  I lied about taking extra Xanax at night, because I needed to sleep.  I either told my friends I was okay or didn't answer the phone, and lied to my family doing the same.
There was hidden emotion regarding the hurt that my sons were feeling.  Parenting became lost to me.  I became lost to myself, my inner me, the once caring unselfish me.  I couldn't see the love or value of what I once was.  I had all the symptoms of depression and those of a user.  From lethargy to secrecy.  Being elderly with physical issues, back pain, numbness and nerve pain in my right leg and food complicated my case.  I decided to wear these afflictions like a badge of honor proudly.  I medicated them sufficiently, with a little extra for luck.  Anything to make the feeling of body loss go away.  If I didn't feel it, I didn't have it.  Fortunately, I was rescued by a family intervention.
The truth to sobriety began.  The road was painful through detox, but then an amazing thing happened...LIFE!  I started to feel, albeit slowly at first.  I began to learn about reasons and triggers of why I used.  Also, I began the learning process for gaining coping skills.  I was breaking the isolation, feeling again and slowly gaining lost abilities.  I learned to write again and my pen runneth over.  I have taken my First Step..."


Friday, July 2, 2010

Goodbye Letter to my Drug

This letter was composed by Donna, one of our patients who has successfully detoxed.

GOODBYE LETTER TO MY DRUG


Goodbye Xanax, you rotten, low, insidious, miserable pill,
how you  must have enjoyed watching me sink
deeper into depression, and become very ill.
I didn't know you were in a relationship with the devil.

You must have smiled with glee
 as your absorption took place at the cellular level.
No one warned me about this rather unknown response,
so mean,
As you built tolerance in deep layers over years of innocent dreams.

Oh, you gave a good nights sleep you see, that was the ruse.
It was your way of making sure I would always use.

You messed with my brain, I thought you only helped me to sleep.
When, in fact, you dulled all emotions, my joy, my very presence, any thoughts deep.
Over the years, unknown to the cognitive me, you crept.
Deeper into my brain, taking away strength and health as I slept.

Oh, you heightened me up at times, so I could feel pain.
Driving me to seek a drug called Norco to find relief again.
This I repeated three to four times a day.
While you continued to wash my self will away.

Into the pit of depression, I continued to fall,
You were happy to contribute, you were having a ball.
All the while, I lay in bed sleeping twelve to fourteen hours away.
Becoming numb to all sensation, and don't care if I see another day.
You did nothing to stop me feeling this dreaded gray.
Oh no, you couldn't, nor wouldn't stop your play.
It took an intervention, and a family who cared.
To seek help for this body and mine so - so impaired.

But you weren't done, you weren't about to leave so soon,
You stubbornly held affixed to my pleasure sites in the detox room.
As you were fed no more, you caused my body to shake and agitate.
I lay in tremulous agony, crying, you did nothing to help my state,
Not wanting to leave, you resisted for days and days, more then eight.
You wouldn't allow sleep, oh that would be a reprieve,
And you weren't about to allow comfort, if you had to leave.

You fought hard, but my self will began to emerge, where it belonged,
And little, by little, the old Donna arose to fight, first weak, than strong.
But you're not done, you buried in my memory, the peaceful sleep I gained.
Your hoping I'll remember, weaken, and begin to use again.
So on the nights, I struggle, to fall fast asleep,
I'll replace you with meditation, and breathing that is deep.
Where you once took away my gratitude's, and replace them with fears,
Now you are helpless, I've replaced you through many shedding tears.
never do I want to go through the agony of retreat,
You are done, you are sin, I wash you down the drain that goes out to the street.