Friday, January 29, 2010

Sara, part I

“One of the definitions of sanity is the ability to tell real from unreal. Soon we'll need a new definition.” Alvin Toffler

When you spend any amount of time in rehab you spend a lot of time thinking. Hopefully thinking about what got you there and what it’s going to take to keep you from coming back. Sometimes self-pity creeps in because this has never happened to anybody before and it wasn’t your fault in the first place.

The facility I was in didn’t allow TVs in your room. There was a big common room and they would do anything to bring everybody together. But being at my antisocial worst, the summer’s events hadn’t helped matters, I spent a lot of time alone in my room. Besides nobody was going to tell me I had to socialize.

My dad was always an avid collector of music and at the time my ipod was filled with 70s and 80s music. I would sit in my room for hours listening and thinking. Constantly thinking about my past, my messed up present, and my hazy unsure future. Wrestling with my demons that always seemed to be getting the upper hand.

Than one day Fleetwood Mac’s song Sara came on. As I listened I whispered to myself ‘fucking Sara’. And in an instant all my demons, torments, and hatreds had a name.

Sara ….


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