Residential Program

A Success Story

 

First in a series of life stories of Serenity House graduates.

September/October 2003

 

Not quite 20 years old, John L. is in his junior year at Oglethorpe University as a business administration and computer science major. He and his parents "are getting along great." He's had the same girlfriend for five months. He even met up with her in Paris where she was taking a semester of classes. He's involved in his community, notably by being his AA group's representative to the area service committee and by continuing his aftercare at Serenity House. He has friends, he goes to concerts, and for 15 months he has been sober. Before returning to school this fall, he's going up North to a wedding and afterwards he and his girlfriend are taking a Caribbean cruise. Sounds really nice and it wasn't easily attained.

 

"I'm doing things. I have a life," he says with enthusiasm.

 

As John tells about his journey from misery and near-death to this point of recovery, he mentions choosing to go to Serenity House, his graduation from Avner Bush Academy, his enrollment at Oglethorpe University, leaving Serenity House and living on his own, but for each of these events he says, "No, this was not the turning point."

 

It took 15 months at Serenity House, relapses, and a return to Serenity House before the real turning point came. And when it came, it was not so much about drugs as about honesty.

 

"Ever since fifth grade, I wanted to use drugs," John says, but he couldn't get his hands on any until the summer after eighth grade.

 

Sent to Groton, a very prestigious boarding school in Massachusetts, John enjoyed unprecedented freedom. "The best three years of my life. A whole new world. I could go into town on my bike, get into trouble, steal stuff, smoke." He felt invincible.

 

He would get high every day on alcohol, pot, ecstasy, speed and prescription pain pills. "Drugs were cool, and my friends and I were desperately cool guys," he recalls. "Using was awesome, everything I expected and more, and I expected to continue to use."

 

In spite of his drug use, he got Bs and Cs and played football, lacrosse and basketball, making varsity in 10th grade. However, his desperate need to get high was accompanied by a disregard for safety.

Finally caught, John went from desperately cool to desperately sad. "I was thrown out of Groton and my element where I really liked to be." It was the first time he had lost something he valued because of his drug use. But he didn't learn anything from it. He thought it was really just bad luck.

 

Sent to a Catholic school in a Boston suburb for students who had been kicked out of other schools, he used a wider variety of drugs than ever before, from speed to mushrooms. He was getting straight A's because the school was easy for him. He had fights with his parents, but with the aid of copious lies, he had complete freedom. While he felt good getting high every night, he wasn't sleeping, he was very depressed and really miserable. "There was nothing redeeming about my life," he says.

 

Midway through the year at this school, he overdosed and collapsed. His mother found him in the fire escape stairwell in a puddle of blood and vomit. Next stop: Massachusetts General Hospital.

 

After detox at McLean Hospital, he was given two choices: a new school that his parents had found or Serenity House. He chose Serenity House, he says frankly, because it was far away from his parents.

 

In three months at Serenity House, John didn't change much. "I had no idea I'd have to change a lot of other things about me besides giving up drugs before my life would be good. It was nice at Serenity House," he explains, "They had TV, PlayStation, food in the fridge, you could smoke and hang out. I stayed clean for eight-and-a-half months."

 

For someone as bright as John, racing through the books necessary to graduate from high school was not a problem. When he graduated from Avner Bush Academy, he felt mostly relief.

 

"I wrote my graduation speech at 2:00 in the morning and let go of all of the emotion of the last three months or more. (I'd had been guarded in therapy, and didn't let out much.) I was thinking about how my parents always wanted me to graduate from high school and how proud they'd be. I'd let them down so much so I was glad to give them that experience."

 

But this was not the turning point. "After eight-and-a-half months of being clean, I started using again and got caught the day after graduation. Life was awful because I was going nowhere."

 

He applied to Oglethorpe University, easily got in, and was awarded a scholarship, too. Everyone was happy. Oglethorpe's green suburban campus, ringed with stone buildings, is reminiscent of the Ivy League. However, taking the van back to Serenity House each afternoon, missing fraternity life, skipping spring break trips, John was not living the Ivy League life for which he had once been destined. Academics were hard, and his performance was poor.

 

In spite of his disillusionment, he again went eight-and-a-half months sober. Then he and a friend there decided they were going to sell drugs but not take them. That fell through during the second deal when the buyer didn't show up. "We were stuck with all those pills so, of course, like any good drug addict, we took them."

 

About that time, John was due to leave Serenity House so he laid low untill he got out. He was high while people were congratulating him on his "success." He hated the feeling his deception caused him, but he didn't hate it enough to admit to his deceit.

 

He got an apartment and soon graduated to that insidious drug-crack. He was not really going to school but showing up for tests and making the minimum grades necessary. He was depressed and had lost thirty pounds off his lanky 6-foot frame, eating only every few days to keep from dying. His roommate called Anne Ambrose.

 

"Anne asked me to come to her house," John recalls. "I knew she knew. I could have said 'No, I'm not coming,' but I thought, even though that first moment of getting high is a great feeling, in the morning I didn't care if I woke up ever again. If I died, it wouldn't be so bad."

 

Anne asked John, "What do you want to do?"

 

John knew if he continued to use, it would be crack. He knew he'd have to go with dangerous people and "Life would be that."

 

He said, "I'll come back to Serenity House."

 

But this was not the turning point.

 

John spent a couple days sleeping on the couch at Serenity House. On the second day back, riding to an AA meeting, a couple guys at Serenity House said, "Do you want to smoke pot while we're going to the meeting?" So they smoked and got high. Back at Serenity House, John told the boys: "Look, I'm not going to be using anymore. I'm not telling on you guys, but I don't want to see you using because if I see it, I'll tell."

 

After a while those guys got caught, and Anne called a meeting. She asked the group, "Does anyone else know about this?" As they confessed to knowing, she separated those who knew from those who didn't, the sheep from the goats, if you will.

 

"This was the third time I'd been in a meeting like this, and every time I was on the side with the guys who did wrong. I realized I couldn't do this and stay clean and have a life. I realized that I wasn't doing something right. I needed to change something. I believed it might be that I had to tell the truth."

 

That, John says, was the turning point.

 

He began to talk to staff more, to go to meetings, to get a sponsor for real this time, to let down his guard in therapy, to tell the truth all the time. "It was so hard to do. Before I talked to people but not about anything important. This time at Serenity House, I changed fast. I began to realize telling the truth was an important part of life and the way to stay clean."

 

Three months after John came back to Serenity House, he graduated to the Aftercare program. "I've been very happy and continued to go to meetings and to tell the truth. I chaired a meeting at NA and hung out with people, went to shows, and it was great. I met some good people and made new friends. Sometimes I'm tempted, but I know if I do I will return to that life that wasn't good.

 

"Will I ever use again? I try not to think about that." John liked the feeling of using drugs. To think he'll never know that feeling again puts him in danger because the loss of that feeling is still painful. So instead he says, "I won't use today. I'll use tomorrow." Then tomorrow comes, and he says, "I won't use today, I'll use tomorrow." And so it has gone for 15 months of tomorrows, 15 months without drugs. Success is fragile but stronger every day.

 

Anne says it is no surprise to her that John sees his turning point coming out of the relapse of several guys. They almost never relapse singly, she says. "While there is usually smooth sailing at Serenity House, about three weeks out of a year there is chaos when a little group gets together and colludes to use. We can't tell if they are using or about to use or are stealing or lying, but we know something is wrong, and we look them in the eye and wait. I say, 'I'm not going home tonight until I hear the truth.' I can wait longer than they can, burdened as they are by dangerous secrets. Change comes about during these times of chaos and because of the lessons learned from that chaos. When they look back, they don't say the months of sober living changed them; they say the relapse changed them."

 

Relapse is the storm before the light. Dawn comes out of chaos. Treatment centers where clients are locked up and no relapse is possible prevent the life-changing chaos to do its work. For recovery does not stand still. Addicts are either going forward in progress or backward. Relapse gave John L. the impetus to go forward. "We expect relapse because it's the nature of the disease and these guys are young," Anne says, "but we don't like it. It makes our heart sink. Even so, if our guys are going to relapse in their lives, we want them to do it here, where we can hold them to honesty and support the coming changes."

 

Letitia Sweitzer