April 23 2012 9:30 pm

You’re probably wondering what this is: another blog, a journal, another person seeking attention? I’m asking myself the same thing. I was given this pretty book to write down my feelings and my thoughts in – anything I want to get off my chest. They say it helps us to deal with trauma in the recovery process. But I know it’s just their way of keeping track of us to see if we’re going off the rails again.

They say these pretty little books are private and confidential, but I know the people who work here will read them when they are cleaning our rooms and we’re at meetings with the counsellors. So I’ll give them something juicy to talk about. Besides, I have nothing better to do within these white walls.

I asked them to paint my room red, but they refused. They let us keep the art we make in art class, and some pictures we draw, or cut out of magazines to decorate our rooms, but even those are chosen for us. You aren’t allowed anything that reminds you of the past as it might set you off again, and that isn’t allowed.

Only when you’ve passed the third phase and they know you can cope with reality do they start to let you have more ‘privileges’, but I’m still in phase 1.

Recoup Wellness Centre is a rehabilitation centre for whack-heads, loose cannons, the derailed. I don’t fit on that list. I’m not a nutcase. I am Catherine Ruby Stone and I’m 100% sane. I shouldn’t be here, and yet I’m told I need ‘help’.

HELP? I thought that I was helping myself when I tried to commit suicide. But they don’t see it that way. They say I lost my grip on reality and that I’m here to find myself again so I can face the world. My reality is clear to me and I don’t need to face it, hence the suicide. No-one would have missed me. I was doing everyone a favour, especially me.

Rick reckons I am gifted and deserve a second chance to make something of myself in life. He’s one of the counsellors. He does ‘release’ with us − that’s their term for art.

Louise thinks I’m beautiful and that I need to believe in myself a little more. She’s the buddy coach who talks to us. She makes us sit in a circle and share our thoughts and sometimes we have one-on-one sessions with her. If either Louise or Rick was right, wouldn’t I know that? Wouldn’t life have dealt me some more attractive cards? Wouldn’t my mother have loved me and protected her adorable little princess? And my father, wouldn’t he have tried to take care of this face and keep it away from the vultures instead of smashing it in every day?

If something is pretty in your eyes, then it’s precious to you, and you protect it and love it, right? Wrong! You abandon it and let it be abused and beat up on a daily basis by a drunkard you care nothing for. So I know Rick and Louise are wrong.

It’s late so I must get ready for bed. I could go on and on writing but it’s nearly lights out, and there’s no moon out tonight to write by. So until next time…


Tell us what you think: Do you think Catherine can be helped in rehab?