Life Choices – I’m staring at this blank screen, thinking I don’t know where to start. But I know that once I start I don’t stop. That’s my personality too and the way I live life. When I was in high school I had this awesome teacher, we became friends for a while after school too. We’re now Facebook friends and apart from the odd message here and there, we don’t talk much anymore. She was the person who held me up during my teenage years. Probably a bit too stressful for someone only a few years older than me. I was an intense teenager, you’d never know that right ?
Anyway apart from being forever grateful to Sue, she used to get us to freewriting. Write these stories/essays by just putting pen to paper and writing. Just writing even if it was rubbish. And once you’d finished, you could invariably get a whole essay from a couple lines in those pages of nonsense. It helped me think and open up my creative mind. So that’s what I’m doing now just typing and hoping the words come to me.
I listen to a certain genre of music. Something nostalgic and thought provoking to encourage me to think back and remember my life. I once did a class at the rehab centre using music and writing. The tricky thing about that though is that you don’t want to to trigger relapsing thoughts for the people you were taking a class with. We did this assignment for about 5 minutes. And then my nemesis (a whole other story of destruction) came in to take his class anyway.
During my 7 months stint in rehab, I met so many people. Although that was nearly 12 years ago now, some of them are still my greatest confidantes. Some of them I’ve had to step away from in the recent years. Some of them are no longer with us.
Rehab is more than just getting rid of drugs from your system…
For a non profit organisation, Careline, was pretty awesome. There were compulsory classes throughout the day – life skills essentially. Did you know that being an addict stumps your emotional growth? Drugs stop your emotions and it make sense that you then stop growing emotionally. Drug addiction is evil. You forget who you are, you forget your morals and ethics and become this person that you hate. But the desperation for the next fix drives you and once you have that fix, who cares what you did to get it.
Back to Careline, during my time there, we even went away a few times. Once to the mountains and twice to the beach. We did talks at schools, some of them private, all across the highway area (Durban, South Africa). I remember one time we went camping in the Drakensberg mountains and it was freezing but so beautiful. Waking up to a crisp, clear day…despite me polluting the air with my cigarette habit. I remember sitting around a gas stove and waiting for the kettle to boil for coffee, with some of the key people in my life. Once everyone was dressed and ready, we went on a mountain. Breathtaking to say the least, despite my shaking legs due to heights. We could see for miles. We really do have a beautiful country, such a pity it is plagued by corruption and hate.
I took a short cut…
On the way back down the mountain, some of the boys and I took a short cut (my sister will tell you about my love of lessons learned from taking shortcuts). We were casually strolling back to camp and thought that we could cut across someone’s farm. That’s until we saw a couple of Rottweilers approaching us. Slowly at first and then at full speed. All I can say is that I’m grateful we had a big gap between us. I just remember legs and arms flying and diving over a fence. Literally head first. I still love telling that story and I laugh so much…now anyway.
There was another trip to the beach. Staying in wooden cottages near the beach. There were a few instances I remember from this particular trip. The first was playing beach volleyball with all the ‘careline kids’. I used to love playing volleyball. Not sure how good it was though. But clearly a bit better than our latest friend, J, who hit the volleyball straight between the eyes of T. The volleyball snapped her glasses in half. Being the good person she is, she just laughed it off. Drugs really do not discriminate. There are some amazing people with addictive personalities, but that doesn’t make them bad people. It is just the choices that we make that are wrong.
The second incident was late at night after we’d all gone to bed. When you’re in dream status, you can’t always be sure whether the gunshot you hear in your sleep, is a dream or not. It was pinch black and I was still half asleep when I heard someone trying vigorously with the door handle of the cabin. Some of the other girls in our cabin screamed and at that point I knew the gun shot was real.
There was running outside the cabin, shouting and a few freaked out ladies. The boys in our group were great. Some of them had a scout around our area to see if everyone was alright. Also to check that there was no one lurking about the bushes. One of the oversights (similar to a team leader) escorted all the ladies to the bathroom and waited outside until they were ready. Quick look around the cabin to give us the all clear and then back to bed.
If you had asked me before all this, what a drug addict looked like. I would’ve said, someone that is dirty, a tramp, low life and probably many more expletives. The instances above are to show people that drug addicts are people too and so many of them are normal people. It’s scary to think that your neighbour may be an addict and you would never know. That’s not to say all drug addicts are good people, just like not all ‘normal’ people are good. However, the stereotype of a drug addict is often misconstrued.
Also, the picture I have described of rehab seems like a picture of happiness and good times, it’s much more than that. It’s learning to integrate back into a ‘normal’ society, disengaging yourself from thoughts that could lead to relapse, leaving your group of friends that you hung out with and becoming a person exposed to life. Someone who is no longer cushioned by the haze of drugs.
I spent the first 4 months of rehab in pain and discomfort. The first couple weeks are a bit of a blur. I was on medication to help ease the withdrawal symptoms. A substitute of methadone amongst others. I am very grateful that I was able to have this medication to get me through the first days. However, the times that aren’t a blur during this time, I remember the raw pain as if it was yesterday. It’s like your worst bout of flu multiplied by 100. It’s intense. The nightmares are horrific. The restless leg syndrome driving you so crazy you can’t sleep. Making the term ‘kicking the habit’ really appropriate. Painful goose bumps caused by the slightest movement. While at the same time you are sweating like crazy.
I didn’t have such bad withdrawals for whole 4 months. But I had the restless leg syndrome, nightmares and pains in my legs. When I first went into rehab, I couldn’t walk first thing in the morning. It literally took me half an hour to swing my legs off the side of the bed, walk down the short passage and get to the bathroom. And even that time wouldn’t ease the pain. I had to take a bath as hot as I could to try and ease the pain. I couldn’t shower, because I couldn’t trust my body to hold itself up. Drug addiction really is a disease.
To this day, 12 years later, I still get a bit freaked out when I get the flu. It’s a massive reminder of my early days of being clean. Remembering that intense pain is probably a large reason that I haven’t relapsed. And having the support of my family.
What has this blog got to do with Photography?
Probably not much. Some people have asked to hear more about me and as my mentor says, people buy people. Having a creative outlet definitely keeps me out of mischief though. When I’m sad, I create. When I’m happy, I create. And overall, I’m aiming for the stars. I want to be one of the best in my field and I will keep pushing myself until I get there. After all, what is life without any goals.
And just because I’m a photographer, here are some photos of my beautiful home country <3