I really did set out to keep regular, if not daily, appointments here, with the commencement of my rehab at Inova CATS. And that, I'm happy to report, has been successful, inasmuch as I haven't had a drink, or even been tempted to drink, in over five months now. I have occasionally dipped into my morphine supply, but Peggy tells me that was not the reason I went into renal failure: it was the combination of alcohol and naproxen; my morphine levels were within therapeutic levels upon my admission to the ER, and the fact that I still had an unfilled prescription in my backpack was a sign that I wasn't abusing the drug.
My last day at IOP was the first week of June. Pat, the facilitator handed me my chip -- a tradition borrowed from AA -- and credited me for my "honesty" (I wasn't shy about calling out perceived contradictions in the program, which I have commented on before). Afterwards, she said I wasn't a good candidate for the followup "relapse awareness" program, which I wasn't interested in anyway, since I hadn't fulfilled the requisite AA portion of the IOP program. But because I continue to see a neuropsychologist and attend a TBI support group, we agreed that I have a good plan in place. I do wonder if they'll keep the lights on.
Back to this blogging business. My first few posts were very long, which I suppose reflected my desire to get my thoughts and feelings out of my system. Once I started attending the rehab group, I had another outlet, thus the need to commit my thoughts here was superfluous. I haven't gone back to read those early posts in a long time, and doubt I will again. I know many people keep journals for this reason; I never have, and find it somewhat unnatural to do so now, so late in life. It seems forced. It's not as though I expect, or even want, anyone else to read my ramblings, nor do I expect to in the future. Even now, typing this, seems like an exercise in self-coaching, trying to psych myself up to do something I'd otherwise be disinclined to do, but that I should do, for some reason.
It's not as though I have anything better to do, is it?
