Three days in this place and I was finally scheduled to meet with my therapist. My head ached from detox, and I panicked at every slight noise. My fear about what would happen with my kids and my ex-husband guided every thought, every breath I took. Even though this rehab looked like a cozy vacation spot, aesthetics could not quell the anxiety. As I shuffled down the hall, I used an old mental trick - I replayed the ideal first date. I imagined the well dressed man, slightly unshaven, waiting at the bar as I arrived a bit too late, me in a slinky black dress with red glossy pumps, the small handbag big enough only for a few condoms and gel and a small amount of cash. I played out in my mind the music, the conversation, even the drinks I would order. All I knew about the therapist was the room number - 326. I barely got through the first drink when I found the door and knocked lightly. The sound broke my first date reverie, and I shift...
This is the place where I write about all the random things that crowd my mind.....about family, friends and places. It is also the place where my newest writing projects and craft ideas can be found. It is, me, electronically.