Alexei lost control of his car, his blood alcohol registered three times the legal limit. Awakening from a medically induced coma, he’s disoriented.
He blacked out damaging a barn and dislocating his hip, his resuming a spot playing hockey is contingent on sobriety.
Graysen is twenty-nine, a sociology major hoping to change the world one patient at a time working on their pain and addiction. An experience she personally understands. Pain and shame.
I’d be much better off if I’d dislocated my shoulder instead of my hip. The possibility of arthritis in my hip hitting home about forty years too early. Not to mention that I’m seriously concerned about whether I’ll ever be able to properly f**k a woman again.
“I’m Dr. Graysen Wells, and I’m your group leader. In this session, the four of you are my only patients. Six days a week, you’ll do individual and group sessions with me. Today we’re going to just get to know each other a little bit. You have just been through a long intake session about the rules and expectations here, but I find it best to go over my own expectations.” I put on a mask of serious concern, trying to convey that if she wants me to share my feelings and weep into tissues, I’m here for it.
Dr. Graysen’s tone is warm as she delivers this verbal blow, but I still don’t like it. I have to convince her I’m seeing the light, but it’s hard for me to pretend I’m some out of control alcoholic. “I guess it has. But wasn’t it mostly just poor judgment? If I had called an Uber, none of this would have happened.” “Do you think maybe your judgment isn’t as sound when you’re drinking?” I grunt in response, tired of this charade. She continues. “You’re not alone—that’s the case for most people.” I smile flirtatiously. She softly exhales through her nose, as if she’s counting to ten in her head. She’s aggravated with my attempts to disarm
I’m gonna have to be a little more subtle with my seduction of her, but I don’t mind. Flirting with Graysen is no chore, even if she is shutting me down. We’re clearly incompatible, but I can’t deny she’s attractive, in a sexy librarian kind of way. I’ve got time, though. Thanks to my f-g hip, I’m in no shape for hockey yet. I’ll keep attending my therapy sessions, including the physical rehab that starts soon. I just nod as I walk out, because clearly she’s not in the mood for a wink. Graysen’s a mystery I’m going to have to unravel. If she’s got a man, charming my way to a quick graduation from rehab is gonna be harder than I thought.
Alexei’s moment of clarity. Grayson’s words from one of their sessions ring in his ears. ‘You wouldn’t be here if drinking was a choice you made just to have fun. It’s not a choice anymore—you have a physical and mental addiction to it’, she’s right. I may be sitting on a couch, but inside, I’m climbing the walls, jonesing for a release that I could put my fist through a wall. And it’s not just booze. I use sex the same way. The realization makes me look at the empty doorway and pray for Graysen to walk through it. I don’t know what to do with this newfound information, and I need her advice. Christ, am I an alcoholic? I think…I am.
She is on a date imagining the worst “Hey, I’m Jake and I love kids, dogs and hiking. Check out my attractive photos and by the way, let’s get together so you can find out my real name’s Jeffrey Dahmer and I want to wear your skin after I cut it from your dead body.”
This is about mental health, therapy, medications, and other forms of treatment in a positive light that might help others want to take the step towards overcoming their own addictions. It’s an arduous road to trust, acceptance and recovery.
He respects her conditions of dating him if his sobriety exceeds the stipulated nine months to see her socially.