The D-Man left rehab today, rehab being the Gunnebah Addiction Retreat, in the Tweed Valley area of northern New South Wales, or ‘God’s own country’, as it routinely gets called. It is a very beautiful part of the world, the kind of place drunks, junkies and other misfits dream about when they think of sobering up, getting clean or whatever it is they have to do. I’ve known D-Man for only a week, the length of time I’ve been here so far, but in that time found a brother in recovery and, perhaps more importantly, a friend. He arrived at Gunnebah as we all do: damaged, addicted, overwhelmed by feelings of worthlessness, shame, guilt – a veritable laundry list of self-loathing. A common feature of the addictive personality is to only see the bad in yourself, and either suppress or not recognise the better angels of your nature. In fact only recently a wise friend suggested to me that I should try and see myself as others see me which, remarkably perhaps, I’d never really considered before.
The D-Man was being eaten up by behaviours and negative feelings that were destroying his life. But where he saw a selfish, deceptive and abused individual, I – and his other friends here – saw a different thing. Damaged by all means, but a strong, funny, wise and empathetic man, who jabbered away like a deranged monkey when he wanted to, but – when the moment came – also listened carefully to his friends, opened his heart, shared his experience and considerable insight and helped us to help ourselves.
Everyone who leaves this beautiful place, gets a leaving ceremony around the camp fire, where they give a speech and where the other guests get to share their feelings about the individual who’s moving on. I was honoured therefore, when D-Man came to me last night, said he was stuck for an ending to the speech, didn’t know how to fit certain bits in, and could I help out. So naturally I did and with a bit of editorial jiggery-pokery we had a speech that he was proud to deliver. What struck me though was how much of himself he was prepared to share with me and other people who he would never normally have met. Strangers by any other measure, but in recovery, cherished brothers and sisters.
To the original owners of this land, ‘Gunnebah’ refers to a particular area near the creek where the women would go to give birth. It seems beautifully appropriate therefore that birth, or re-birth I suppose, continues here today. I may never see the D-Man again, who knows, and who knows also where life will take him. But today I saw a proud, strong and decent man move on, free from the chains of addiction, and begin another journey into a new world, bursting with life and possibility.
One day at a time.
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