Published date : October 14, 2018
No quantity of comfort is sufficient when there's a look of dread on someone admitting to treatment for the very first time. Photo via Gayle Saks "I want to be that little woman!" She has a smile of pleasure that only a four-year-old may have. Sponsored ad The lady is a patient I'm conf-
Photo via Gayle Saks
for the very first time. Photo via Gayle Saks "I want to be that little woman!" She has a smile of pleasure that only a four-year-old may have. Sponsored ad The lady is a patient I'm confessing to the rehab center where I am a counsel. She is exceptionally drunk and mentally distraught. This is her first time in therapy. I instantly regret having the image so observable, something I know a lot of therapists and advisers would never do and as I move to place the picture facedown on the window sill, she begs me to not. For some reason she's fixated on my kid's picture. In the 3 decades that I've been in the field there is something new occurring --more and more older men and women--people in their 40s through late 60s--are entering therapy for the first time because of their alcohol dependence. It is also occurring with people in their 20s--suburban, young, college-educated, fresh-faced young people attempting to prevent drinking. Prior to this job, I worked within an all-male halfway home for 30 guys. From the year that I was there, maybe four of the 50 or so guys I had in my rotating caseload fought with alcoholism. The rest were mostly 20 and 30-year-olds that were addicted to heroin. This carried over in my present job where originally the majority of the patients coming in were a little rough around the edges, needing to detox from opiates and benzos. Then suddenly, just a couple months before, something seems to have shifted. Sponsored ad I'm stunned by the amount of alcohol that these patients are drinking a daily basis. For me, somebody who is not in healing and resembles a glass of wine in the conclusion of the afternoon, who quits the second I feel somewhat buzzed I can not wrap my head around that desire, that will need to fully obliterate oneself to the point of stopping. I can count on less than two hands the number of times I've been even slightly drunk and just one time when I actually got a bit of the bed spins. I have never thrown out of drinking, never passed out. I am aware enough to understand that a great number of people with substance use ailments are persist for something or another, such as the pain and distress, the unaddressed trauma and emotional health problems that lurk beneath the surface. If a relative accompanies the individual to our facility they will frequently take me apart and fill me in on some details which the patient wouldn't necessarily reveal themselves through the ingestion procedure. It comes out eventually during the customary 28-day remain, with all the gentle guidance of insightful therapists and peers. Obviously the tough part, the apparently hopeless task, is for them to find different ways to cope once therapy is complete. I have a particular fondness for the women and men who arrive at the centre under the influence. I'm okay with being told to"fuck off" after which just two minutes after being told that I'm their guardian angel. I was recently told that I was"hotter than a hand grenade" by a guy whose blood alcohol level has been off the charts. I told him that when he sobered up just how disappointed he'd be in my"hotness" degree. And yes, when I DID watch him the following day, he hardly remembered me. No amount of comfort is enough when there's a look of terror on somebody admitting to cure for the very first time. I can only do so far by telling them it's going to be okay, they've come to the ideal location, that they're so courageous for making this very first step. I expect to go home in the end of the day. I really don't need to be awakened every four hours to get my vital signs taken or worry about who my roommate may be. Some time during my ingestion the woman sitting in front of me looked at the picture of my daughter, put her head down, still sobbing and defeated and full of shame and explained,"I am NEVER going to be this small woman." It was evident that she didn't think she would ever attain an instant of these total joy and freedom, that she would be spun around on a dance floor in a twirly dress. It took a couple of hours to complete her paperwork by the time we wrapped up, she'd sobered up a long time. As I awakened to escort her to the unit, she looked in the picture one more time, some robust and quiet resolution was made, the belief that pleasure could and would be achieved in her own life and explained,"I'm likely to be little woman." I hope that she has discovered many joyful and absolutely free moments since she abandoned therapy, she awakens in her living space having a grin on her face. Gayle Saks has written widely about her work for a substance abuse counselor by the exceptional perspective of someone who is not in healing herself. She's written on the topic for Your Fix, HuffPost, mindbodygreen and Thought Catalog. She's also written about being the daughter of a Holocaust survivor as well as the eventual suicide of her mom. Her pieces on the subject have appeared in kveller where she's a regular contributor, The Jewish Journal, and MammaMia. In 2013 she had been invited to be on a panel on HuffPost Live to speak about being extravagant, in which her 15 minutes of bothering and intelligent conversation turned into a soundbyte about her having a hot flash at a Justin Timberlake/Jay-Z concert.