Tuesday, November 25, 2008


Today, I had to tell my group my story.
One's story is basically what ended you up in rehab, and everyone's at least got to share their story with their small group. My group, the blue group, includes a lot of testosterone. Needless to say, I was terrified. Starting with the day I was born until the day I walked in this door, my life hasn't been nearly as challenging or painful as some of the stories I've heard here. And these guys, who I'm growing to love like family, sat for 30 minutes and listened to my pathetic, dorky, tale of woe, basically the script of Hairspray, had Tracy Turnblad turned to the bottle instead of Link Larkin.
But what I love about this joint, or "the clink" as my brother affectionately calls it, is that we're all in this mess together, using some kind of substance to numb or hide or kill our (and this word is incredibly popular here) feelings.
So I finished my story, with the anti-climactic, "And that's how I ended up in rehab" and these men, one of whom wears hunting gear every day and calls me "Left Wing", applauded and hugged me.
And then they asked me what a blog was...


Anonymous said...

Baby steps Beth, each day a new chance to rewrite your history ater the words, "and then I sobered up..." We, your reading public, are rooting for you.

Sweet Melissa said...

I'm SO proud of you! This is a huge milestone! I'm only sorry I couldn't be there with you. IUJU, Mayn.

-Mrs. Griffwood

kwk said...

Fran Lebowitz muses in the chapter "Writing: A Life Sentence" secton How to Tell if Your Child Is a Writer that "in infancy the baby refuses both breast and bottle, preferring instead Perrier with a twist in preparation for giving up drinking."

Fran herself quit when she was 19 years old (1990 interview here), saying that otherwise she would never have become age 20.

Karyn said...

I'm so proud of you. I know this sounds SO cliche - but I swear to you life is SOOOO wonderful when you hit it head on (no numbing).

Generic said...

I'll be honest. From the perspective of a totally heartless blog-commenter (me), this development is kind of ... awesome. It confirms my sick, American notion of celebrity. Rehab is de rigueur, no? Affleck turned to poker guides; Lilo read Machiavelli; Britney did crunches; Spots blogs. It fits. You need a Blake Fielder-Civil type or a baby to really flesh out the crisis, but otherwise it's all choice blog-fodder. Camo-dude sounds promising. A mug-shot would be good. Any kind of documented run-in with law-enforcement is better. SCRAM-probation is the Holy Grail.

(Seriously: alcoholism is a medical illness. Nothing more, nothing less. Hang in there.)