Thirteen of my father’s journal entries, abbreviated to emphasize the central message in each one. You’ll hear his sarcastic wit, boredom, and longing for love and acceptance. You’ll share in his daily battle to find hope and optimism. You’ll experience his ongoing search for answers. You’ll see that the distrust from his wayward ways was something we didn’t just harbor at home; his unearthed reputation followed him wherever he went.
And finally, you’ll hear the defeated attempt in his voice, his last-ditch effort to get better while facing an uphill battle that would slowly inch him back down. It was as if he felt all along that things may not get better, ever.
Beginning my first day of treatment here. Nervous. Scared. Excited. Just a whole lot of emotions. All I can do is my best and be myself. I’ve resigned to the fact that this will be my last treatment, so I need to make the best of it.
The residents seem very nice and friendly, and I am not the only “rookie.” I also hear that the food is good (if supper last night was any indication I will not be disappointed). Be that as it may, let the chips fall where they may, but I’m looking forward to a new sobriety, a new life.
One sad note, I will miss my son’s graduation, but I will have plenty of time to make that up to him by just remaining sober.
Yesterday was my first full day here, and it went surprisingly well. Got some quality sleep last night, and I feel OK today. I think the meds may be helping. One glitch though: I have to pick up some refills that I’m afraid will cost an arm and a leg, which is OK since I still have an arm and a leg on which to fall.
I haven’t had a drink now for a week. One day at a time, which is a start — just a start.
Today is my first Saturday here. Although I can’t make a phone call or have any visitors, I have enough to do to keep busy.
I did something today I don’t normally do: I confronted my roommate about a missing towel. I had it in the towel rack at 7:00 P.M. and noticed it was missing when getting ready for bed. He admitted to me that he might have used it, then returned it to me. But what is really interesting is it shed some light on how my own dishonesty has affected my children. It will take a long time to regain their trust.
I didn’t journal yesterday and have no explanation as to why. But yesterday went well, as I got to two meetings (Alcoholics Anonymous and Narcotics Anonymous). I volunteered to be the chairman of the NA meeting next week.
I think a lot of people feel I am not qualified, but I’ve done it many times. I still feel a little uneasy here because I don’t think some of the people care too much for me. But they will be leaving this week, and I’m looking forward to that.
I don’t know what is wrong with me today. I just don’t feel well, physically or emotionally. “Oh yeah, life goes on, long after the thrill of living is gone.” It has got to get better. Maybe I’m just tired of treatment. I don’t know. I am sleeping well, so I’m not just tired.
Haven’t been journaling much, and I feel like I’ve been neglecting that. But I’ve been keeping busy, doing what I’m told to do. I’m sober today, and tomorrow will be two weeks!
My daughter can’t come to see me, and I don’t think anyone else will. I won’t get my hopes up. She might be able to come on Monday. God, I hope so because I sure need it. But again, I can’t get my hopes up. It’s a nice day to be alive, sober, and hopeful.
Today was a bad day, especially in group therapy. I just seemed to say the wrong thing at the right time. So I talked with Judy, and she helped me understand me. I’m learning, which means I can change. Today is also very boring; some structure should be set up for Saturdays here.
I wrote a letter to my kids, telling them how sorry I am and that I love them. Today was a very emotional day.
Had a pancreatitis attack (I believe), vomiting every 20 minutes. People witnessed the vomiting in action, so they know I wasn’t faking it, which seems to be the consensus here. I also have a lot of abdomen pain.
I am very comfortable where I am and want nothing to change that. I toughened up, as hard as it was, and received much support here. Unfortunately, I couldn’t make the meeting, but I wouldn’t have benefited by spending most of the time in the restroom. The blood work came back as normal, but what aggravates me most is that they believe I’m drug seeking.
What a surprise when I received visitors today! Unfortunately, I’m in treatment, which is a good thing but interferes with the limitations of visitation.
I also got very sick today. I don’t know what’s going to happen because I called my doctor who knows my history. And I guess I broke the rules. People seem to think I’m faking it to get drugs, which isn’t the truth. If I was searching for drugs, there are plenty available on the streets. If they decide to let me go, I guess that is something I can’t control.
This morning, I had my worst pancreatitis attack in a long time. Even worse than a couple days ago. [I was admitted to the hospital and] received some pain medication, but it still took most of the afternoon for the pain to temporarily ease. I really want to go back to the Hope House, but I got cleared for meetings, which I need. Not many people up here, which makes me lonely.
Got released from the hospital today, with mixed feelings. It’s the weekend and the loneliest time of my life, yet I like my freedom.
My daughter and I put up the Christmas tree. Neither one of us had done that before, but it turned out great. We had a great time.