Treatment for years was nothing more than a hot meal, a place to stay warm or hideout. A secure hotel to quiet the buzz within my brain. Treatment was never about recovery, until the day that the soothing effects of alcohol abandoned me. That was when, I had to get away, from the person I had become.
I woke up one morning and saw myself as others had seen me for years. Recovery was the only option for survival. It gave me the coping skills I needed to put permanent space in between me and the bottle.
Treatment centers are not a place to hide out. They are places that force us to see who we really are and how to co-exist with ourselves.
