
Tough love is the only love that works. A mother who gives her sick son money is simply buying the drugs that will eventually kill him. The living room smells like stale smoke and dirty clothes, showing a complete lack of basic care for human life. Entering a strict de-addiction centre in Mumbai cuts the money supply and forces the sick person to face the awful music. The music is loud.
Because the music is loud, the panic sets in fast. The sick person will scream, punch the walls, and throw heavy chairs when they realise the door is securely locked. A real alcohol rehabilitation centre in Mumbai does not care about the temper tantrums of an adult who is acting like a baby. The core of it involves letting the person exhaust themselves completely until they have no fight left inside. The fight drains out.
Harm reduction is a terrible idea for severe addicts. You cannot tell a person who smokes crack cocaine to just use a little bit less on the weekends. The sick brain is like a blazing fire, and any amount of fuel will cause the entire house to burn down. The many sides of the disease show that you must pour cold water on the fire until it dies entirely. The fire must die.
Because the fire must die, the withdrawal is a nightmare. You feel your skin crawl as if tiny bugs are marching up and down your arms during the long, dark night. The people who answer the phone at four in the morning know exactly how to talk a person down from the ledge. The full truth is that you have to walk straight through the dark tunnel to reach the normal daylight. The tunnel is cold.
Boredom is the biggest enemy in the first month. The sick brain is used to the high drama of chasing drugs, running from police, and lying to angry family members. When the drama stops, the quiet days feel extremely loud and uncomfortable to a person who is newly sober. The area of danger is directly inside the empty hours of a Sunday afternoon when there is nothing to do. You find a chore.
Because you find a chore, the brain stays busy. You scrub the toilets at the community centre until your hands are raw, just to keep your mind off the heavy cravings. The smell of cheap floor cleaner replaces the smell of old liquor, and you slowly start to feel like a human. You listen to the old timers speak and you realise they hold the absolute only key to the lock. You pay close attention.
Paying close attention saves your life constantly. You notice when you start to feel angry or hungry, and you fix those basic problems before they turn into a major relapse. The dark ghost in your head hates when you follow a strict routine and eat three regular meals a day. You stand shoulder to shoulder with the other broken people and you refuse to walk away. You hold the ground.
The group is your only actual shield. You will not survive if you try to fight this massive, deadly monster completely alone in your dark bedroom. You show up early to the meeting, you arrange the plastic chairs, and you shake hands with the crying newcomers. You keep the monster away by reaching back to pull the next person out of the terrible fire. You live to help.
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