Love Yourself WildlyI think we can all agree that addiction in Vancouver is a crisis and there are a lot of hurtin’ units in the Downtown Eastside. But what I wasn’t aware of is the hidden addicts among us. The ones who still have jobs and apartment and lives, but they can feel their lives slowly crumbling around them.
I can’t claim to have any really gnarly stories about sleeping behind dumpsters or passing out on a dirty mattress and waking up not knowing where I was. But there is no mistaking I was killing myself slowly.
I was a vast minority as a “first timer” at detox (and I hoped an “only timer”), and I was absolutely terrified. First off, I have a phobia around doctors and medical buildings. I didn’t know what to expect at all, but from my phobic mind’s perspective, detox felt too “hospitally”. I mean, it’s a medical detox facility so that makes sense, but I was praying that somehow it would feel like a dorm or a hostel or something.
When my friend Nicole and I buzzed into the facility (it’s highly secure), it felt to me like a combination between a hospital and a prison and I broke down in tears. I was terrified. It felt institutional. I felt like my mom was dropping me off at kindergarten. I was a scared little girl again, right back there at 5 years old.
I was also embarrassed because of the sobbing, but the good news is, it was detox. Everyone was fucked up.
About 15 minutes after my intake, I was taking my things to my little bed in the dorm-style room, feeling totally overwhelmed. The young girl in the cot across from mine, who was brought in a half-hour before me had smuggled in drugs and was overdosing, about three feet away from me. The paramedics rushed in. I started bawling again. I was used to my little area of comfort in my middle-class addiction and wasn’t prepared for this.
After a few minutes I went to the kitchen area where people in their matching beige hospital pajamas were cutting pictures out of magazines and making collages. It looked like a scene out of One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest. I sat down and just watched.
What followed was, in some ways, the strangest 7 days of my life. But I met people who I’m still good friends with. There is something to be said for taking away people’s cell phones and forcing them to be so raw and vulnerable with each other. It was a crash course in addictions for me, and I cried a hell of a lot, for myself and for other people. But I also laughed a lot and even though we were all strangers I felt supported and loved.
I’m not saying Detox is a party because it’s not. But for me, it was a wakeup call and helped me get an in-road to a treatment facility and that lead to my outpatient treatment, which was life changing. And I know I couldn’t get sober on my own, so it worked for me.
I want people to know my story
