METANOIA • (n) The journey of changing one's mind, heart, self, or way of life
April 29, 2022
Oakley stepped into the doorway of his room, looking into the hallway. The gray walls added to the dreary environment. The man stuck his hands into his sweatpants pockets. He scanned over the faces of the workers. They put on cheerful smiles while talking with the other 'patients'. Oakley hated the word, mainly because he didn't like being called a patient. People weren't patients. There was nothing wrong with them. They were just people, like everyone else. Oakley let out a breath through his nose. He reached behind himself and grabbed the door handle, closing it.
"How are you feeling today, Oaks?" The buoyant female worker approached him. He cringed at the nickname only she called him. He put on a fake grin and responded "fine."
It was always fine. The only thing he loathed more than simply having to be there was the workers that were way too energetic all the time. He understood they were supposed to make the atmosphere less dismal. Not that it was working but he understood at least. It all seemed more than depressing. Everything about it.
"Breakfast doesn't end for another 30 minutes, is that where you're headed?
"Yeah." He answered, being quite curt. The worker nodded with a grin and walked off down the carpeted hallway. The whole facility was carpet, minus the bathrooms. Oakley plodded to the eating hall, his hands still in his pockets. Oakley was quiet, he kept to himself and didn't really talk to everyone else. His therapist suggested that he try to at least talk to someone other than Jason, he hadn't had much luck. Jason was one of the workers he'd been closest with the last couple of months. Oakley called him Jay. He seemed to be the only person he could stomach being around. Jason had olive skin and brown almost black eyes. He was quite tall, about 6'4", but he had a small frame. Oakley didn't know why he didn't get immensely irked by the man. He turned the corner and was met with more people than he'd hoped would be there, all eating and socializing.
He hesitantly walked over to the food bar, there was a variety of different breakfast foods. Pancakes, sausage, eggs, you name it. But all Oakley got was some diced strawberries in a bowl. He'd gotten some apple juice too, although he doubted he'd drink it.
He went and sat way in the back of the dining hall away from everyone. Everyone was instructed not to eat in their room or else that's exactly where Oakley would be with his food right now. He sat and ate his strawberries, watching the television that played some boring soap opera.
A hand pulled the chair in front of him out from under the table. Jason sat down in it as Oakley's head lifted, chewing on a strawberry. "How's it going today, Oak?" He asked him.
"I feel better than yesterday, but not good I guess." Jason nodded. "I get you."
There was a comfortable silence. "How're the strawberries?"
Oakley smiled genuinely, answering "good, good." The pair made it an almost daily routine to sit together during breakfast. Sometimes Oakley didn't eat at all and he'd stay in his room. Some days in rehab were worse than others. On the days when Oakley's withdrawal was much more severe, he only wanted to be left alone. Jason would have to force him to do his drug test. They both hated it. Oakley would become very aggressive, even with Jason. He'd always regret it right after one of his outbursts.
Oakley would scream at him to get out even though he knew he had to take the test.
"Do you meet with your therapist today?" Jason questioned. Oakley nodded making eye contact with the man across from him.
