THE roommate
Insomnia remained a concerning issue for several days. I
stopped caring and I focused on the days. The activities and group meetings were
awesome. I learned to love rehab in no time. I especially loved coloring and
yoga. I started coloring about three years ago. It was relaxing. Of course I
gave it up just like everything else. Drinking won the „relax contest”. Yoga
was my friend for a while as well. Unfortunately, it joined the group of losers
of my alcoholic life. We also watched movies once in a while and gained knowledge
about different cognitive behavioral therapies. As I mentioned, the people in
the group were friendly, understanding, and protective. They got my back no
matter what. Crying and laughing together was liberating.
On the third day, the nurses smiled at me and announced that
I am going to move into another room where a roommate was waiting for me. Wow. I immediately
threw a little tantrum deep inside. I complained but it didn’t help. My evil
cheerleader – who appeared on my left shoulder right after I was born – whispered
in my ear: “You do not want a roommate. You will not be able to handle her. You
will fail to fall asleep again.” My dangerous imagination screened awful movies of
fear in my head. All the joy I experienced behind the hospital walls faded
away. Until the evening. My roommate did not feel good. She arrived on the same
day I did; she slept for two days. The only thing I knew about her was her name
and her choice of poison which was alcohol. I tried to feed my inner night owl
in order to avoid sleeping. At one point, I had to give up. I crawled into bed
and looked at her. Her face was troubled and her side of the room was messy because she did not have time or energy to put her stuff away. I actually felt calm. It surprised me. I had to admit that having another human being next to me was quite nice.
I could sleep!
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