Dear Addiction

Chapter thirty three

Dean remembered his first time switching schools. He'd been five years old, only having gone to school for three months before his dad had decided they couldn't live in Lawrence any longer, and moved them across the country to Idaho.

He remembered standing behind his dad as John talked to the secretary.

The walls being bare, the whole school seeming so big.

Not wanting to leave Sam who was only three, or his dad, or Kansas.

Being terrified, wanting to be held and comforted by his mom who'd died only months previous.

Most clearly he remembered his dad pulling him to the side, as Dean had burst into tears, and telling him to man up, that crying wouldn't do any good.

Standing in the rehab facility reminded him of that day, the walls a bare white, his heart racing with fear, Sam stood slightly in front of him, the way his father had years before. This time it brought some comfort, a shield from the reality Dean had yet to accept.

"Will you be a part of our inpatient program or outpatient?" the secretary asked.

"Inpatient."

"And will you be participating in the thirty day program, or in ninety day program?"

She looked up to Dean, at the same time Sam looking to him. "I was told I could stay for two weeks."

"Withdrawal symptoms last for about ten weeks, in the rehab facility we help make that time easier to go through by offering on call therapists, a healthy lifestyle, and medical care if needed." The women spoke in a kind but robotic tone, as she repeated the speech she'd surely said a million times before. "Our thirty day program is incredibly beneficial, but patients find the most success in our ninety day program."

"That was a cute little airplane speech, but I gotta record an album soon so two weeks will do."

This time the security didn't answer, instead writing something across the paper in front her. She then grabbed a second paper, handing it to Dean.

He looked at the women for another second before finally letting his gaze drop to the paper in his hand. A schedule printed in black text, Dean's name across the top left corner.

"This will be your schedule while you're here," the women spoke, though Dean didn't look back, instead looking over the activities they'd plan. Wake up 6:30, they had optional yoga after that, then a therapist led group session. "It can be changed as needed."

Dean continued to stare down. Lunch, then a long list of various individual therapies. "Is so much therapy really needed?" Dean asked, finally looking back up.

"Each afternoon therapy session offers a slightly different approach to recovery," she began to explain. "The cognitive behavioural therapy is used to find new ways to respond to triggers, group therapy allows for a sense of group, and the specialized sessions are tailored for things such as grief counseling, and stress management. We also offer family therapy sessions, if that's something you'd be interested in?"

"No, that's fine."

"Dude." Dean looked up to Sam, only raising an eyebrow.

"You have enough of your own therapy sessions," Dean replied, looking back to the schedule. Sam had his own problems, and Ellie's, and John's, he didn't need to be worried about Dean's. He could handle them himself.

He heard a shuffling of papers from the security as he continued to study the list. Dinner, then another group session for something called a twelve step plan, followed by free time, and finally lights out. It really did remind Dean of school, everything incredibly structured, to the point that he almost walked out there and then.