An Oasis Centre residents journey from addiction to recovery

By Anonymous on 16 August, 2005
An Oasis Centre resident's journey from addiction to recovery.

Many people before seeking or being helped, reach their lowest ebb in one big bang - a fearful overdose, a binge which leaves you teetering on the brink of death... my decline was not dramatic at all - but it was none the less embarrassing, shameful and very painful.

From being a happy-go-lucky social drinker who was more often than not the life and soul of a party, I had developed into a pathetic drunk who had become the embarrassing, blundering idiot of the party. I was a "clever" drinker though... didn't hide bottles in nooks and crannies; never drank during the day... but could not go longer than one hour after sunset before I had to have my fix.

And so I drank predominantly at home, and at parties where I knew I had friends who would take care of me when I got out of control - and that was always, at each and every party.

During January 2005 there were a number of social occasions at my own home, organised by my long-suffering housemate, where I got obnoxiously drunk and emotionally out of control, much to his embarrassment and annoyance and my family's bewilderment. As I normally had no recall after about 8pm in the evenings, I would have no idea of what I had said or done, and thus had to make vague excuses for behaviour I was not aware of.

On one such occasion I sms'd my housemate at work, apologising profusely, and saying that if I could, I would organise a stay in a rehabilitation centre as a birthday gift to myself. My 47th birthday was on 31 January, and I know now that on that particular occasion I had realised how desperate I was; that I knew then that I could not fight this battle alone... My housemate's response was "there is hope; there is always hope...".

But how to reach out and get help? I did not know, and was of course shamed and embarrassed. And always the next bottle was calling me, and I faithfully, stupidly answered that call, time and time again... Until my brother and sister-in-law observed me making an idiot of myself on the night of my birthday dinner party... A few days later they approached me after mixing and stumbling over his words a bit, my brother asked my straight out if I had a drinking problem. I answered with a resounding "Yes". And with that "yes" the first boulders and glaciers in my Mount Everest of resistance started crumbling...

I arranged a meeting with a family friend, a woman more or less my age, who is an alcoholic but who has been "clean" for almost three years. I went and chatted to her on a sunny Friday morning - and the relief of sharing my feelings, my fears, my desperation was enormous. I walked away from her house with the Big Blue AA book under my arm, and a lightness in my heart which was simultaneously waging a battle with the fear of letting go of my only life-long friend - the booze.

Later that Friday afternoon, 11 February 2005, I scraped together what little courage I still had left, and phoned Oasis. My family friend had gone to the trouble of finding out what rehabilitation facilities were available in Plettenberg Bay, and had given me an e-mail detailing what Oasis (which by then had only been operating for 10 days) was about. Mandy answered and wanted me to come through to Plett immediately, a 65km drive from my home. But at this point my fear intervened and I put off meeting the Oasis team until Monday... I told myself that I need to "check out the place" before committing myself, and I needed to be assured of my family's willingness to take on the financial responsibility. I did not realise then that my family were prepared to give whatever it took.... that all they wanted was for me to get well.

And so a weekend of reflection lay ahead of me... I spent hours reading the Big Blue Book, whilst soaking up the sun on my veranda, and whilst sipping what I knew would be my last drink. Uncle Bill would surely have turned in his grave, observing me with a glass in one hand and the Blue Book in another! I rationed out what booze I had left in my home to last me through to Sunday evening, and by 8pm that night it was all gone. I took a sleeping tablet that night, as the alcohol in my system was not enough to give me my usual sense of numbness.... And then Monday morning dawned and with it came fear and hopelessness...

The drive to Plett felt like it took hours and hours - but I got there without turning around and fleeing, and was received by Helen and Mandy. I don't recall much of what was said or asked - all I know and remember is that I felt safe; I somehow knew that here at Oasis I could let my entire Mount Everest disintegrate, and I would still be OK. Arrangements were made with my family to bring me back to Oasis later that day. The councillors were fearful of letting me go home to pack and in retrospect I understand why... it would have been so easy at that point to let my fear take the upper hand and to not commit myself. I felt that I had to go home though; I had to say goodbye to my house, my cat, my housemate. I had less than an hour to do it all - I remember crying and laughing with Jacques, and not knowing what the hell to throw in and what to leave... then my brother arrived, I said goodbye to my sister-in-law - and I was gone, on my way.

...On the road to recovery.

And that is where the journey started, on Valentine's day 2005, February 14. After detoxifying in hospital for 3 days, I came back to Oasis and became part of the group. And then I became part of the family, and Oasis became my home. Within a matter of a few days I started forgetting about "life out there", I stopped stressing and fretting about my finances, my family, my job, my responsibilities. The love and care that was given to me so unconditionally by my peers and councillors lifted me and carried me beyond the trivial every-day life issues. Here was an environment in which I could cry and laugh and love and live and no-one would look at me as if I was mad... here I could speak my mind - whether in anger, pain, joy, frustration - it did not matter. Whatever I said was received with love and sent back to me with love. Here I learnt to trust again, to give and receive unconditionally.

Make no mistake - this was not a "holiday camp" as some friends jokingly and jealously described my stay at Oasis. There is work involved - but it is all self-satisfying work, and team work. It is work that nurtures and heals. And yes, there are days when you don't want to get out of bed, when you fear the responses of your councillors and peers; there are days when the pain is almost too much to bear... but those days pass, and at the end of each such day I never went to bed with a feeling of despair. Throughout such tough periods your peers and councillors sense your need and your pain, and they treat you accordingly; they carry you and help you to heal. At Oasis you learn to fully understand the meaning of the phrase "you need never be alone again". Not only do you experience the companionship of your "new family", you also make friends and meet very special people at the AA and NA meetings. And with time you realise that the world is actually full of good people, and that by reaching out and by being yourself and no more than just this, you can and will experience the joy of a new life.

And so my time at Oasis went by and with each passing day I grew stronger. I knew deep down though that one month would not be enough time for me, and as I approached the end of the second month, I realised I needed still more time. Through my 47 years of wearing masks and always being on the defensive and not really allowing the "real me" to live, I had built up such immense barriers which required patience and hard work to break down. So I stayed for a full three months, and I am extremely grateful that I did this. Right up to my last days I was still working on issues I had left unattended through the years. I can say truthfully and honestly that not one day at Oasis was wasted, even those days when I did nothing but lie on my back and watched clouds drift by...

It was sad leaving Oasis, but for once in my life I felt ready to face the world again... and I knew now that the time was right. This time I was not filled with false bravado, neither was I wearing a mask. What stepped out of Oasis was and adult version of the little girl I left behind many many years ago; the little girl I continuously punished for not being good enough. That little girl had uncurled from her foetal position, learned to crawl and then walk, and grew until she was ready to leave the safety of Oasis, standing tall and confident.

I had a beautiful farewell ceremony; there were lots of tears and laughter and beautiful words. I have memories imprinted in my mind that can never be taken away from me again, and I have made friends and associates who will be with me for the rest of my life.

Life "on the outside" has not been a piece of cake; I don't think it ever was intended to be. As I said earlier, this is a journey I am on; it is a road of daily growth and new revelations. By just being with myself, and being with the world around me, every day, a little bit at a time, I keep on growing and keep on reaching new heights. And the heights I obtain are a slow realisation of the dreams I had for myself, many years ago. Dreams which I had given up on completely whilst driven by my addiction. No, I will never be a millionaire; no, I will never be on the cover of Cosmopolitan... but YES!!... I can WRITE again, I can LAUGH again, I can CRY again, and I can feel once again that I am a valuable part of this whole cosmos.

And for this I thank Oasis. I thank Helen, Anstice, Mandy, Warren and the rest of my adopted family ... this list goes on and on.

I will always be really proud of having been a founder member of the Oasis family, and the first Oasis "graduate". I am today 121 days "clean", so I am still a puppy in recovery - but I know what I have been taught will stay with me till the end of my days, as long as I embrace this gift every day of my life.

Most of all I thank a force greater than all of us, than all of what surrounds us...something we all battle to come to terms with... what is it that is so much stronger than all of "this"?? ... Some days I think I get it: The answer is: 'LIFE ITSELF';