Day Six
I don't really even remember the last two days. I pretty much went to work, came home, did basic parenting and adulting, went to bed, woke up and repeat.
Today was my meeting with the counselor guy. I chain-Juuled all the way there, chugging grapefruit seltzer waters. Are those like the drink of choice for ex-boozers, by the way? The office was a in a gentrified brick building downtown with a chic urban esthetic feel. The receptionist promptly took me back to his office and right off the bat, I relayed my story and what I was trying to accomplish. I had this fantasy that a team of social workers, counselors and psychiatrists would show up, put me on some meds, find me a specialized counselor and tell me that if I hadn't gone into withdrawal by now, I would be totally fine going to a few meetings and seeing a counselor once a week.
Not so much.
The counselor guy told me that my long term drinking habit made me high risk for relapse and recommended inpatient or intensive outpatient treatment. I didn't disagree with him, but my life right now is not compatible with that plan. I graduate in six months with the degree I've been working toward for over two years and there is no allowance for time off. I have no income. I am a single mom. I cried and cried (whats up with all the crying, anyway?) and told him he didn't know me. He didn't know what I could accomplish with the right tools. He didn't know how much GRIT I had. I begged him to give me options that were workable with my current life and compromised that if I relapsed within thirty days, we could do his plan.
Our final agreement was one counseling session and three AA meetings a week. Talk in a month but call if I need to. I left feeling relieved but overwhelmed with the responsibility of what I was about to take on.
Of note, I slept for 5 hours straight that night for the first time in years.
Today was my meeting with the counselor guy. I chain-Juuled all the way there, chugging grapefruit seltzer waters. Are those like the drink of choice for ex-boozers, by the way? The office was a in a gentrified brick building downtown with a chic urban esthetic feel. The receptionist promptly took me back to his office and right off the bat, I relayed my story and what I was trying to accomplish. I had this fantasy that a team of social workers, counselors and psychiatrists would show up, put me on some meds, find me a specialized counselor and tell me that if I hadn't gone into withdrawal by now, I would be totally fine going to a few meetings and seeing a counselor once a week.
Not so much.
The counselor guy told me that my long term drinking habit made me high risk for relapse and recommended inpatient or intensive outpatient treatment. I didn't disagree with him, but my life right now is not compatible with that plan. I graduate in six months with the degree I've been working toward for over two years and there is no allowance for time off. I have no income. I am a single mom. I cried and cried (whats up with all the crying, anyway?) and told him he didn't know me. He didn't know what I could accomplish with the right tools. He didn't know how much GRIT I had. I begged him to give me options that were workable with my current life and compromised that if I relapsed within thirty days, we could do his plan.
Our final agreement was one counseling session and three AA meetings a week. Talk in a month but call if I need to. I left feeling relieved but overwhelmed with the responsibility of what I was about to take on.
Of note, I slept for 5 hours straight that night for the first time in years.
Comments
Post a Comment