Day Nine – Insurmountable Odds?
No one is here for the first time. Except me. To clarify, from the 20+ patients in residence I am the only one here in Station P- for the first time. No one is the first time doing a stint in rehab, not even me. That makes an 100% failure rate of rehabs here in Germany. What does that tell us about drugs, kids? That they are impossible to forget, once you have tried them. That there are some ills in the world that you can’t heal. Of course, the stories and the substances differ, but they all come to the same conclusion. Drugs stay with you, through good times and bad. “Let’s celebrate – have a wee dram!”. “Gosh, I feel terrible. I know what will help”. And if you manage to abstain, you become an outcast. A smug arsehole. And no one wants that.
Just been subjected to a round of drug nostalgia from two of the hardcore old junkies. Tales of cold turkey, drug abusing parents, bartering codeine for material…it begs the question, for someone who has had such a privileged upbringing – with parents who have always tried their best to show me that I am loved and supported – how did it come to this? I try and justify it with my crippling depression. I try and justify it, because I have to. Because I can’t foresee a future without drugs. I am going to ask the Doctor to increase my Sertraline. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck it all.