They Tried to Make Me Go to Rehab, I Said...

alright... Cue music, anyway.
Being a Young Adult of the '80s, a movie I remember with quite a bit of melancholy is that cinematic classic 'St. Elmo's Fire'.  One of my favorite scenes is when Andrew McCarthy--and where the f is he, now- tells one of his friends, "It's not easy bein' me'.

  Regular readers of this blog know that I've been going through a very hard time lately, and that I finally gave up, gave in, and decided to go to Rehab, in my case, Psyche Rehab, called Partial Hospital. It was a two week program of intensive group therapy for six hours every day.   I didn't have much faith in it, after all, what could be accomplished in two weeks, that would un-do all the crap and angst I'd been through in the past six months.
 I was wrong.
Still for the first few days I was there, I sat in group with my arms crossed, occasionally making a snarky comment (or six)  I alternately(in my head) made fun of the the other patients, thinking that they were way more messed up than I was, I told myself I didn't belong there, that this wouldn't help me at all.  I spent most of the morning of the third day I was,there, crying in the hallway, and promising myself I"d never come back,
Again, I was wrong.
After lunch, I came back, and I don't know what happened, or how it happened, something had changed.  Many of the things the instructors were talking about sounded less like BS, and more about things that I could apply to myself.  More frightening was the fact that I knew many of the non-productive behaviors they talked about changing were things I had done, some of them that had actually caused me to lose friends, and remain as desperately unhappy as I was, which was what had brought me to rehab in the first place.
  I started to learn better ways of dealing with my situations and emotions.  It wasn't easy, and it certainly wasn't enjoyable most of the time.  But I had the support of my staff and my peers, and the bottom line is was and is, that now it's over, I came out a different person I was when I went in.  The jury's still out on whether that's  better person, but different, definitely,
The day I left they told me I had done everything the right way this time and they were proud of me.  It felt good.
Now, back out here, in the real world, I have a whole toolbox of skills to use to help me when things get hard.  To be honest, I'm still learning to use them.  But at least I know what they are now.
What happens next?
Watch this space.