Three weeks ago I asked my financially stable father for assistance in paying for a longer term residential mental health and drug rehab.
I was surprised that my honesty about the state of my addiction and mental health was met with very little criticism, rather “understanding” and an open mind tot help. (I am never sure what to expect from him, understanding and proactive or a narcissistic speech on how terrible I am.)
At the conclusion of that phone call my stepmom and dad informed me that they were be in town in two weeks and we would discuss further. In the meantime I was to research both Medicaid facilities as well as self pay facilities. I did such that, 20 Medicaid and 20 self pay. I called all 40 facilities and asked them the same questions as to create standard of “judgment.” I will admit, thought practicing a mild form of harm reduction, i was still occasionally using my substance of choice. Approximately 3-5 times.
One of those times, I contacted a serious skin infection that put me in the hospital the day before my dad and step-up mom arrived. I was happy to hear that instead of canceling “THE” family meeting, my dad and step-up mom would visit me In the hospital.
I was anxious, as I have not seen them since before COVID (2020) and knew my dad was was not going to be meeting me compassion or understanding.
In fact, he spoke very little.
Apparently, the expectation of someone who is in active addiction, is to just not act like it. Though not discussed, it was expected of me to enter into some kind of detox and short term rehab. They expressed that my continued use does not show that I am serious about recovery and WANT IT.
My father, a man of either a plethora of rageful words or a man a few, simply said,
“G. Dam it Lucy, your absolute last resort should be asking us for any kind of financial assistance. You should have exhausted every single option that you could find. Do you honestly think we’re going to pay for sh!t for you since you couldn’t go two Weeks without putting a needle in your arm? You, Lucy, are not a safe investment. I don’t see how you could think otherwise.”
Because that’s how they see treatment, as an investment in the person going-not to save a life and help maximize living potential. So now I am a stick option that is not safe to invest in; and they threw all my research in the trash after I handed them both copies-without reading a word.
I understand all aspects “if I am truly willing, the facility shouldn’t matter” on the other hand, I need nature, to feel
Connected to others that are navigating the same murky waters, addiction help and mental health help. I desperately wanted/want to be in a safe compassionate place where I can stop running and face my emotions, traffic loss, and the wreckage of my current life. Nurturing my relationships with my family, friends, and myself. As well as reevaluate my relationship to people, places, things, nature, and this world get in touch with the person I have always supposed to have been. I want to do the hard work to find myself, with supportive staff that also allow me to practice being a good human again and will be understanding if I forget to regulate my emotions.
At the end of the day, i fought tooth and nail the two weeks, before my step-up mom and dads arrival, to be proactive in my treatment and to just survive when I honestly felt like life was going to swallow me whole. Yes, I proved to myself that I have the fight, however, I feel like it was thrown in my face when I was call an “unsafe investment.”
My dad has always been a narcissistic man who requires an immense amount of understanding and salt to not take what he says to heart. He is not for the faint of heart or someone who can’t “dish” it back. Unpredictability is how he keeps everyone on their toes. I know all of this, yet I am still hurt. I still had hope that it would be different….
That’s hard stuff, my Dad was very similar. Move forward anyway you can with treatment.