Every end is a new Beginning
They say old habits die hard but what if they never died? What if they were buried under our sub-consciousness? It had been a month since I left rehab. I still remember being confined within the cold stone grey concrete walls going through hours of mental and physical therapy. The sessions seemed long, painful and torturous but the most devastating ache of all was time. The nights spent were mostly sleepless and uncomfortable and at times the chronic insomnia left my body weak and sore. I missed my house, my family and friends at work but change is the only constant in life and life itself is very unpredictable indeed. Never in a thousand years would I have ever imagined myself a prisoner of what seemed like sniffing harmless white powder and inhaling the smoke of a burning herb. I recalled the first time I experimented with my college friends before attending a concert. The night that I termed then as "the best night of my life" was now the night I would remember as my downfall. It had been five years since college ended and five years of continuous substance abuse that made me fall from grace and I couldn't do anything about it. I was helpless and utterly dependant. That is when I checked myself in a rehabilitation centre just a block away from my house. People can judge all they like but we all have a few skeletons hiding in our closets and none of us have a clean slate. No one can relate to the problems of others as long as they do not go through the same kind of hurdles themselves and me being the person I am generally disregarded any act of sympathy or spurious attempts of concern directed at me. I got myself in this mess and I was determined and adamant to get myself out of it. After spending three months in rehab I discovered that the treatment did not abide by the cookie-cutter approach, as the quality of treatment consisted of an individualized treatment plan. It not only encouraged me to explore the causes of my...
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