Read Their Stories
The past two months weren't easy; things don't usually breeze by when you spend the majority of your energy kicking and screaming, or at least that is what I have found. As an addict I developed the skill to manipulate and BS my family, friends, and the system. I spent about 4 years perfecting that skill through trial and error; this skill was powerless though in the end.
On November 23, 2009 I was sent to my first inpatient treatment facility. On November 24, 2009 I left my first inpatient treatment facility, I didn't even have to pack my own bags. I was under the impression that I didn't need help, I didn't need the three staff members at 
, and I made the threat that I was leaving with only my two feet to make it 400 miles back to . I figure they must have taken me seriously or just didn't want to deal with me because they opened the door for me and forced my mom to come and get me. I'm pretty sure that no addict jump ropes into treatment with a smile on their face because they're thrilled to give up their drugs, that's why we get sent to treatment; we need help. After leaving , refused to admit me because their treatment program was not prepared to help an addict who wasn't absolutely ecstatic about being helped.
My family had almost given up on finding me help and I felt even more hopeless that I could ever be sober after being declined and also basically kicked out of treatment. Then by some miracle, on December 2, 2009 I faced another entrance into an inpatient treatment facility. After my night at , I figured it would be just as easy to get kicked out of Newport Academy. I tried convincing my parents to come get me, and when that didn't work it was time to start making my go around of threats. At Newport Academy they were much more prepared though. They didn't open the door for me and tell me to leave, even after I revealed that I had snuck in drugs. Instead, they found my drugs, took them, and had even more of a reason to have me stay.
The staff remained on call 24/7 for my first two weeks because no one knew what I was going to try next; clearly they were dedicated and their jobs at Newport Academy weren't just money to pay the rent to them otherwise their phones would have been turned off at 3 AM. As little as they knew about my next move, I knew much less about theirs. They always were prepared; it was impossible to get a step ahead of the staff because they all had either done the same thing I had done or they knew how to get me to not do it.
I tried to get the staff to break and play into my games, but it never happened unlike my first experience. Instead I found that playing a two team game isn't much fun when you're the only one playing. They never gave up, they never gave in, and at the end of the day I was the only one tired. I finally threw my towel in, but it wasn't forced. At Newport Academy they encourage you to take steps at your own pace, although the process may be expedited because you're dealing with not only educated counselors but with loving counselors which causes you to willingly give up your control over the situation.
The schedule was also much different at Newport Academy; however, it worked towards my long term progress. I didn't have as much free time as I did at , my routine was much more structured, which I also fought in the beginning. The schedule was very easy to adjust to once I became open to it. I actually began to want to get out of bed because I wanted to attend the groups to release any problems I was internally dealing with and even to just say I was feeling great; either way there was always a staff member who individually sat there and discussed and encouraged what you had to say. That seemed far much more beneficial to me than sitting in a room with 12 other kids and not hearing any input from the staff.
If I was presented with a offer to go back to November 23rd just to see how things would have ended up if I was an addict happy to give up my drugs, there's no doubt in my mind I would decline it. Today I am sober, thanks to Newport Academy. I am positive that if anything were to have been done differently, I would be in juvenile hall, an institution, or dead, all of which I had experienced or came one breath safely out of. The facility that let me leave wouldn't have blinked an eye if something had happened to me. Newport Academy, on the other hand, would have never let me leave in the first place. I owe my restored life to Newport Academy; they were the only treatment facility that didn't turn me down and didn't give up, they treated my disease like a hospital would cancer, no illness was to ill for their facility and no step back in getting better was enough for them to send me home to die. They truly cared and that's what got me sober.
Age 17
