If I Ran a Rehab...

Whilst watching the latest episodes of "Celebrity Rehab" on VH1 I've become inspired to comment. I know this is reality TV, which is usually anything but, but it's triggered the over-analytical health nut in me.

There are several things just strange about this recovery center Dr. Drew runs. Mike Starr, one of the sort-of celebrity patients receiving treatment there, is obviously having some problems. Physically, he's going through a harrowing detox from heroin, methadone, and cocaine. That sucks to begin with. Dr. Drew encourages the physical detox to transpire completely before the heavy psychological treatment comes in, which is agreeably wise because who wants to talk about his head when it's pounding and screaming and the body is likewise incomparably pissed off? But a major problem Mike is having alongside his physical torment is a resentment and agitation at the TV cameras. Granted, he signed on for this and probably contractually agreed (and perhaps was paid?) to be broadcast during one of the more horrific experiences of his life. That was his initial decision, but now he's stuck and detoxing and really angry. He expresses this through a mixture of verbal aggression and antisocial behavior, just pacing the grounds unresponsively with headphones.

What I wonder is what else could he be doing to take his mind off of his agony? Is there an exercise room? Maybe just running on a treadmill or lifting weights would release some of the pain and stagnant energy in his system. It really looks like he needs to just move his body. It's clear he's trying to do this by the constant walking and pacing. Of course we all know exercise, getting the blood pumping, increases endorphins and therefore feelings of well-being. Another thing is: he's a musician. He was the bassist for the band Alice in Chains until he was kicked out for his disruptive drug use (guess they didn't kick out frontman Lane Staley because he died from heroin!). Maybe Mike would like to play his damn bass. He has mentioned a few times on camera that he wants to get clean so he can perhaps join another band. Maybe he needs a push to just pick up his instrument again and see what it has to tell him. Seems like a productive suggestion for spending this awful time.

Instead of encouraging constructive behavior in Mike, Dr. Drew and the staff continue to simply express concern over his aggression, surround him obnoxiously, try to force engagement, and consider sending him to a psychiatric hospital. What the hell, this is REHAB! That's what happens. Of course people get angry. People get sick. The cameras showed Mike throwing up in the middle of the night, as ya do when you're completely withdrawing from opiates, and showcased the ensuing madness the morning after. Dr. Drew's assistant, Shelly (I don't know what her title is), discovers the vomit and is totally disgusted. She begins by spraying copious amounts of air freshener into the room (yes, let's spray synthetic chemicals into the air and trigger more nausea), then continues to act like a college girl whose roommate is passed out and has puked on herself. Like this is the first puke she's ever cleaned up. She carries on getting grossed out and complains about how grossed out she is. If Mike weren't so apathetic and scathing, he might be embarrassed by the incident. That's a nice feeling to generate in the recovering patients. But really, doesn't this "celebrity rehab" have orderlies? Cleaning staff? Lower rung staff members paid to clean up the accidents that inevitably happen when the body experiences utter turmoil?

But here's where it gets sticky. When Shelly conducts a sort of NA meeting, she begins by introducing herself as Shelly, an alcoholic. An addict. This is how she identifies herself. She then asks another patient if he is an addict and he wholeheartedly agrees. She then gets to Mike and asks, "are you powerless?" He complies. She seems satisfied. She asks the same question to Heidi, the methed out Madam. She also acquiesces that she "cannot stop" and "does whatever she wants." The first questions I would have asked any of these people are "Have you ever truly wanted and tried to quit abusing drugs?" and "How do you see yourself? Where does your power lie?" I suppose one of the main credos in chemical dependency rehabilitation is the admittance of addiction, admitting the problem, and then aiming to fix it. While I agree that you must recognize there is overwhelming negativity attached to the destructive behavior, I do not agree that addicts must continue to be addicts all their lives. "Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic." This affirms the undesired behavior and identifies the individual as the addiction, an inescapable fact, ignoring the fact that they do still have power, it is just directed toward the drug use. How much attention is given to empowering those things that could make them well? This is why I believe so many rehab programs simply do not work. People come in believing they are not addicted, though they may physically appear that way, and come out of rehab conditioned to think that that is EXACTLY what they are. Like there is nothing in their lives more important than focusing on that lingering addiction. Then when they are confronted with substances again, they let themselves fall prey because that is what they are: mere prey to the demons. I wholeheartedly believe people can change if they choose to, and there is always something more positive to affirm than that which they are trying to escape.

Lisa D'Amato is an example of this. The former "America's Next Top Model" contestant and self-proclaimed party girl does not see herself as an addict until the good doctor tells her she is one. There is a conversation between herself and Heidi where she says she never turns down drugs, though she has in the past, but "what the fuck, why not [do them]?" Heidi seems shocked that she "can't say no." Well, she's a young model in southern California who loves to party. Go figure. In Hollywood, it's not news to anyone that drugs are extremely accessible to a person such as herself. The status associated with being given expensive drugs would go to anyone's head. It doesn't seem hard to acclimate to that lifestyle if that's what you live in. But just because she never turns down cocaine doesn't mean she needs to go to rehab, that means cocaine is a fun drug for people who are into talking nonsense and dancing with other famous people. I did the same thing when I was 18 (minus the celebrities). My first year out of high school, out from under my mother's watch, for a time I took to snorting coke daily. I never turned it down either because those 25 minutes of f-u-n were too tempting to pass up. Basically, if you regularly do coke, you do not turn it down. But after about four months I was over it, over the physical desperation and awkward nights up by myself with a tiny white bag, over the exhaustion, and over the drainage in my wallet. I chose to pursue a different hobby, and now look at me: I'm about to have a baby and cherish green salads and knitting.

It seems like these people are just waiting for someone or something else to take responsibility for them. "I'm powerless, I'm an addict, I can't help it." Maybe being a celebrity with a drug problem is different from my experience. Maybe enduring significant childhood abuse makes it more difficult to choose well-being for oneself. But who hasn't experienced some sort of abuse? We are abused every day by our families, our governments, our neighbors, and ultimately ourselves.

If I ran a rehab, I would not designate addiction to anyone. I would designate wellness to all, and aim above everything else for that, whether that be through physical comfort, psychological support, or spiritual wholeness. Rehabilitation should be about affirming the positive, affirming wellness, affirming that which the person wants to be. If that person still wants to be an addict and vibrates that desire, it is so. If the person truly wants to be well, support must be available to provide that person with the tools necessary to achieve wellness. That means getting rid of the idea of permanent addiction, eternal weakness, not writing it across their forehead so they never forget it and sending them hopefully on their way.