Leaving rehab

On the 30th of December, I was ready to leave the facility. I talked to the psychiatrist and the social workers. They wished me good luck saying that I seem to be very strong (am I?). I had to fill out some paperwork then they gave me back my belongings. It was funny because I had to pack in the hallway so I couldn't share anything with someone else. I sat on the floor. My new friends tried to help and they constantly giggled. When H. arrived I got way too excited...and sad. I kept hugging the entire group one by one. I admit that half of my soul did not want to leave at all...can you imagine? I got used to the environment, the rules, and the strict schedule. I still make schedules in my daily life to discipline myself. Yep, I enjoy it.

By this time, H. had a new job and our new apartment was almost ready to take us in. In the meantime H.'s AA friend and his cute dog let us to stay in his house. Blessings.

My mind was spinning as we left the hospital. I was unable to decide whether I should be happy or melancholic. Maybe I can afford both feelings. I was free but deep inside I was scared of the reality. The program did focus on recovery and the possibilities of the future. However, we did not have a lot of stimuli from the real world. What if I will fail...slip. What if I cannot adapt again? What if I cannot take responsibility? What if I will want to drink again?

I knew that I should not think about anything but the "now". So I started chatting with H. on the way to his friend's house. I admired the snowy trees and the dirty roads. We stopped at a store to buy groceries and I looked around in awe as if I was a child. At one point, I just laughed hysterically (not in the store though). Probably I had a hypomanic episode.

I remained a bit confused and could not find sleep that night. I missed the light from the hallway for heaven's sake. I even missed the checks. Ridiculous, isn't it? But I did not want to drink.