Rational emotive behavior therapy was developed by Ellis in the 1950's. It is a branch of cognitive behavior therapy and focuses on rationalizing negative and irrational beliefs/thoughts. When we experience an event, many of us would develop irrational thoughts. The thoughts create feelings; the feelings affect behaviors. This method teaches us how to correct beliefs to form positive feelings and behaviors. Bla bla. It is easy. Or not. No matter how many times I heard about REBT I never applied it to my daily struggles. Practicing it in rehab changed that. When someone shared bad beliefs regarding an event, the others "yelled" at them: REBT it!
I thought it might be a good idea to demonstrate the process through an example:
This conversation (in different forms) happened many times before and during rehab. My addicted brain raised denial-related questions to avoid change. Sure. I knew the answers...not that it mattered in the beginning.
I am not an alcoholic. I choose to drink...because I like it. Oh and I can stop anytime I want.
You are able to get rid of alcohol from your system. Choose? Want? Those are not option anymore. You have no control.
What about my problems? My problems seem less concerning when I drink.
Haha. Wrong again.You simply numb yourself with alcohol, but your problems are still there and they get worse.
Why do I need to
self-medicate myself when others can deal with their issues?
Because you were born like this...
Now that is crap! Just because my counselor said that...
Where do you think he got the information? Ooops, actually you know this answer. You researched it.
I do not want to be
labeled as an alcoholic for the rest of my life!
Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic. OK the wording can be misunderstood. It is not a label, it means that you will never be able to drink safely again.
And the ones who claim that they became social drinkers or can drink in moderation after a while?
There is a very thin line between abuse and addiction. People who abuse alcohol might achieve this. Alcoholics? No. Sorry. Remember, you researched this as well.
There are alcoholics who still say they could do it.
They say. Miracles happen. Or they are not honest. Does that ring a bell?
Let's say I start the recovery process. How could I forgive
myself for all the crap I did to others?
Hard stuff. It will probably take sleepless nights and several years but it is possible. We all know that we cannot change the past.
Exactly, so how could those people forgive me?
Asking for forgiveness is your task; their reaction is not your concern. If you can accept this, you will forgive yourself because you will understand that it is the only way. Call your Creator, she/he/it will be glad to assist you with unconditional love.
So? I always followed spiritual paths...What am I supposed to do???
Shut up and listen! 😉
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!
Next day we started talking. She was honest and shared her
thoughts and feelings with me. I did the same. We became friends…forever.
In a recent post I wrote that I chose to go to rehab after
nothing else worked. Whoa, I was scared (who wouldn’t be? I admire everyone who
takes this step.) H. and my sponsor almost had to push me toward the door. Once
I was in I calmed down. That is exactly how I feel when I go to the dentist. A
nurse asked me thousands of questions and I got some food and water which was
really nice of her. After I got into the rehab center everything went crazy
fast: vitamin shot in my butt, extra pillow and blanket, friendly people around
me, dinner at the cafeteria, AA meeting. I received my belongings as
well...well...half of my stuff was missing. I carefully packed. I reviewed the
website of the hospital that explained the rules: no phone, no glass, no
plastic, no metal etc. Obviously I did not pay enough attention to the
guidelines. When they took away my deodorant because one of the ingredients was
alcohol, I freaked out. What would I do with it? Eat it?? Actually some people
tried that in the past 😟 Same with cue tips. I heard that someone shoved it in his ear until it started
bleeding. Eventually I accepted what they told me regarding the restrictions.
They made a lot of sense.
My real fear increased once the place settled down. For a
while I could not reach H. I felt lonely. The last time I had to be in a
hospital environment (even if this rather looked like a motel) I was 3 years old.
During this first evening I often went to the bathroom. To cry. I sat in the
corner and my body shook. Not because of physical withdrawals, I was just
scared. H. called me back and I begged him to pick me up. Fortunately, he successfully
convinced me to stay. As I said bye to him, I teared up again. Two women from
the group came over to me and gave me huge hugs. That’s when I knew that I
belonged there.
The first night was more than interesting. I took Librium in
case of withdrawals and Trazodone for sleeping. I was glad that I did not have
a roommate. Of course I could not sleep at all. Checking on me with a
flashlight every 15 minutes and checking my vitals in every 4 hours did not
help. I ended up at the nursing station in the middle of the night to chat.
They were happy to do it. For the rest of the night I just laid in bed praying
and waiting for breakfast.
