Jim sitting in the passenger seat looking out the window, asking himself,” what did I do wrong?”  Jim’s big sister was driving; her eyes red and puffy from crying the day before when she dropped him off at a homeless shelter like when their father would drop an unwanted cat on the side of the road. The homeless shelter was packed with hundreds of people with dirt in every crack of their bodies, smelled like the leftovers you threw out the night before, and few of them had your old beaten clothes that was given to Goodwill. Everyone at the shelter had lost something; whether it was reality or faith in life. Jim was one that lost faith in life; he turned to self medicating for his undiagnosed depression like the other fifteen men and women at the shelter.
As Jim’s sister pulled up to the rehab center, Jim’s heart beat faster and his hands shook like an earthquake. Jim didn’t want to be there; however, he kept saying over and over again in a whisper “I have to be here. For my family and friends, but most important for me. ” Jim stayed in the car as his sister stepped out of the car to talk with one of the rehab psychologist, she nodded her head a few time before opening the passenger door to walk Jim inside.
Once inside the rehab center, Jim’s big sister went into the psychologist office to fill out  paperwork as a nurse had Jim follow her to his room. As they walk to Jim’s room, the nurse kept asking him questions that he don’t want to answer. The nurse said, ”Being honest with us is as much about being honest with yourself.” Right before they got to his room there was a man who standing in the next doorway. The man had crazy eyes and jump to the sound of a pin doping. The nurse said, ”don’t mind Charlie, he’s just in the middle of withdrawals” as she followed Jim in the room. The room was a very simple looking room; measuring ten by fifteen feet, with dull brown furniture.  Furniture consisted of one twin size bed, standard dresser, and a desk.
Jim set down a box of his personal items which included laundry supplies, hygiene items, an alarm clock, and a photo of his family on the desk.  Next he set down an old raggedy army bag full of his clothes on the tan stained carpet flooring.  The nurse went though the rule as Jim open his ragged army bag allowing for the nurse to check his items.  Rule number one being there is no sharp objects, drugs, alcohol products nor electronic devices allowed.  At the facility they do not allow trust on the first step in. Then she helps put his cloth in the dresser. Before the nurse walk out of the room, she set a sheet of paper on the desk that's outlines his day. Each day was set up the same;
8:30 AM- breakfast
9:00 AM- community
10:00 AM- speaker, group, experiential, and on sunday religious services and 12 step meeting who are not religious
12:30 PM- lunch
1:30 PM- kudos & concerns, individual sessions
3:00 PM- workshop, free time and visiting time on sunday only
6:00 PM- dinner
7:00 PM- assignment group
8:00 PM- 12-step meeting
9:30 PM- closing groups
11:00 PM- lights out

First thing first though, Jim needed to go through detox.  His last use of oxycodone was 6am before they left the homeless shelter today.  Jim had not let the medication exit his body which put him at risk for multiple withdrawal problem including seizures and death.  Jim was greeted by a big burly looking man that stood 2 feet taller than him.  “Jim my name is Earl, I will now be taking you to the detox wing,” the big burly man said.  Jim knew by prior research with his sister that this was an area where people had to be watched 24 hours a day while going through withdrawals.  Jim was scared.  His eyes were wide and dark.  He did not want to suffer through the withdrawal symptoms, but wanted to get better for his family.  Earl and Jim walked down a hallway that was full of “dorm like rooms” then reached a clear locked door with reinforced glasses that held the nurses and psychologist.  Jim walked with Earl through another side door that brought him to a hospital like wing with machines.  Jim was scared.
The nurse walked in his new room that contained 3 other males.  The nurse then introduced herself as Jenni, saying “I will be your nurse tonight.  Tonight we will be monitoring your vitals, asking you many questions and making you do some tasks.  These will help us understand how your body is handling the limitations of not taking any further oxycodone.  According to your prescreening you were taking about 20 pills a day is that correct?”.  Jim bowed his head because he knew that was a large amount but it was just a enough to make me feel like he could live.  Jim says in a small quiet voice, “yes”.  Jenni then went to explain the different machines in the room and purpose. Jenni also explained that to help with the side effects of withdrawal they will give medications as needed to help maintain a comfortable level based on vitals, observation and questions.  This made Jim feel a little more comfortable.  For Jim the journey is just beginning.
Night time in a hospital felt like a prison.  Jim was hooked up to many machines, One was monitoring vital signs every 30 minutes, another machine was monitoring his heart rhythm and another one was monitoring his oxygen sats.  Beeps from his machine and the other 3 men was driving him insane. His skin was itching like crazy, his mind racing a mile a minute and dreams coming and going about how he was going to get his next “fix” of oxycodone.  Jim felt the nightmare would never end. That whole experience lasted 7 days.  7 days of dark, prison like feeling.  Beeping machines running through his head.  Jim does not remember everything but it took 7 days to be out of the woods for any major withdrawal risks.  7 days to return to the more comfortable, more open and more free room.
The once dreary room now looked like paradise to Jim.  Jim felt like a new person.  He still was feeling urges for the oxycodone ;however, each time he gets those urges he flashes back on the boom room with the continuous beeping of the machine.  He finished one step but multiple more to come.  His days are now going to be filled with group meetings, individual meetings and some free time for himself.  He thought about ways that he could get through this.  Ways that he can return to that happy person he once was before all the bad demons entered his body.
The next 23 days was almost identical for jim and the other. Jim woke in the morning to the burly man knocking at his door.  Earl in his deep dark voice telling him it was time to get up.  The nightmares ending with a knock, the demons still lingering in his head.  At home this would be the time that he would go to the bathroom and find the bottle or bag of oxycodone and start chopping it up for a morning boost.  This he could not do but willing to take a cold shower instead.  He heads to the group shower where privacy was not allowed.  Multiple man showering together while Earl watched over them.  Jim felt ashamed and felt scared of every new step he took but kept telling himself that he can do this. 
Jim finished his shower and dressed.  Breakfast time.  He was allowed what every they offered and had 20 minutes to eat before the next new step occurred.  Jim swallowed each small bit with regret.  Making each new bite harder and harder to swallow.  Jim did not eat much at home.  He would finish his normal morning routine and then need a nap.  Food was not important to him.  Food was more of a chore that was not important any more.  This food though had a new taste.  Taste of possibilities in life, possibilities that were hard to swallow.
Next was group meeting time.  This was time that a certain group of people would meet with one psychologist and discuss topics.  Topics that were simple to a normal person but to Jim brought back memories of why he was here.  The psychologist Joan greeted everyone in a circle.  She  provided a prayer to start out.  This prayer was to a god that never belonged in Jim’s life.  A god that provided fear and not comfort.  Jim bowed his head but did not think about what Joan was saying but remember times his father had brought him to church after beating him for not finishing his chores in time.  Jim had to go.  He had to sit on the hard pillar for long periods of time while his dad squeezed his hands so hard that he could not feel his fingertips.  This was to show everyone that they were a “good family”.  If only they knew.
Joan had woke Jim from his flash back with a cheer sound.  Jim did not know what was going on but looked at the whole group at this time and realized that he was not the only one not there.  Joan brought up many topics to explore.  Simple topics like what did they eat, how was breakfast at home, who eat with you, and what routines are there.  Jim sat in a gaze, looking out the window and remembering.  Remembering times at the house when his sister would make breakfast while Jim was trying to get all the animals feed, wood in the house, stove going.  His mom would be making breakfast if she could; she was sick and would lay in bed all day long with moans of pain with movement while his dad sat on a rocking chair with the whiskey in his hands. Jim’s Dad did not say much and did not do much, but when he got off the chair, Jim and his sister knew it was coming.  His dad would not yell, would not say a word but would stumble and reach for Jim or his sister to hit them.  His dad would hit if  the breakfast was not on the table in time, the stove was not hot enough or just if his mom would start to moan in pain because it was their fault.  Jim remembers the one morning when he came back in from chores and his sister was not in the kitchen like always.  He walked around the house looking for his sister and found his dad with his sister in the upstairs bedroom while mom was sound asleep.  The sight of this was unbelievable.  He can remember smelling the bread in the oven, quiet sounds of his mother snoring and the small crying sounds from his sister. Jim shook his head trying to make these memories disappear.  A man across from him was describing his morning routines while Jim could not began to think about sharing this information.  The stories that brought sadness to him.
Next was lunch time;  jim was able to eat in main dining area, but did not want to meet other people.  He just wanted to be alone at this time.  The facility allowed for him to walk around the grounds as it is a voluntary admission to the facility.  Jim found an isolated corner outside to eat by himself.  He felt lonely but did not want friends at this time.  Jim was dreading the next chore.  He had individual counseling and that meaning he could not get away with  no speaking.  He would have to face this demons that are building up in his mind and body.  Demons that are hard to fight.  Desire for the oxycodone continues to rise with desire and over taking his thinking process.  Jim could imagine sitting at the table from waking up from a nap and taking to round two about this time.  Just as Jim was imaging the rush of the medication and the feeling of relaxation that comes with it, Jim heard Earl's voice again. “Time for you meeting with Joan”.  Jim thoughts left his mind as he looked down at his tray and released he had not even taken a bit of food.  Jim was not hunger though, he was more hunger for the oxycodone that could prevent these flashbacks from resurfacing.
Individual group therapy was not a place Jim could hide from.  He knew it was a way to get better and be there for his sister.  He knew his sister was a rock.  She had been through a lot but had been able to face her Demons face on.  She did not struggle with drugs or alcohol; she met a perfect husband, had perfect children and had a perfect career while her loser brother continued to make mistakes that would cause her sadness.  Jim did not want to be that person that he had become and he was willing to do anything to become the person he once was.  The person he was when everything was good at home, when his mother was not sick, his dad was kind and talked with everyone and was always happy.  Jim remembers the times that his mother would be teaching his sister to cook, while his dad was teaching Jim to fish.  Times when family would come over for holidays and everyone would sing songs while dad played the guitar.  These were happy times before mom got sick. These were the times that Jim could handle to talk about to Joan.  Individual therapy session was one hour long. Someday was not bad because of the brought Jim happiness he had not felt in a long time.  Remember those good times brought a smile on Jim's face.
The Journey of rehab continued for Jim.  Jim began to learn to trust others, open up about the flashbacks that continue to hunt him through the journey. He learned techniques to help cope with the desire to return to oxycodone use and depress behaviors.  Jim was shocked at after 2 weeks of therapy he was hungry.  Food did not feel like a tasks but a desire.  Jim was learning how to laugh again and learned that god was not a bad person but one that would forgive him just like his sister.  Jim was in rehab for 30 days and then was able to return home.  Home, a new journey, that required relying on his sister to support and love him.  Jim was able to visit his mother's grave and shed tears that had been built up for many years.  Jim was beginning to be one with himself while learning how to cope in the new world and his undiagnosed depression.  Jim journey will continue for the rest of his life.