Life after rehab was harder than rehab. It was a strange thought, but it was one he had often. He expected drug rehab to kill him, frankly, but it wasn't too bad. He detoxed from the cocaine with relative ease, and despite hearing that he was some sort of anomaly, he felt pretty normal after detoxing. He went through treatment pretty easily. Therapy was nice, and the other patients treated him with kindness and understanding. He liked living like this. The cravings were gone, the desire nonexistent. There was a calm to life that had before eluded him. It was after rehab that the difficulty began.
He supposed it was what people called “the pink cloud.” It was a period after recovery where life seems perfect without addiction. When his happiness turned to boredom and his new outlook on life turned to apathy, he knew something was wrong. He made an appointment with his doctor to talk about his new-found depression. His doctor said he likely had a dual diagnosis. Rehab in California couldn't see it coming. It wasn't their fault, no one can see depression coming. It's always a possibility, but never a certainty. He tried to move on, but the sun seemed dimmer than it ever had, and the house seemed colder and emptier than before. The job was boring, and he could barely even muster the gratitude to thank his boss for taking him back. He was higher up the food chain, so he'd be difficult to replace, but his boss hadn't even looked for a replacement. That should've made him happy, but it didn't.
He tried to think of what had made him happy during rehab. He woke up, he ate, he exercised, went to therapy, relaxed, wrote in his journal, then slept. He tried them all, at different times throughout the week. He could barely relax, and the 12 step meeting made him anxious. He couldn't even bring himself to buy a journal. He couldn't figure out why none of them worked. He woke up, ate, exercised, therapy, relaxed, wrote. Why did it work then? It was at that moment he realized that it wasn't the actions themselves, but the routine. He had done the same thing in the same order every day for thirty days. Was routine the solution? The next day, he went to work, ate, came home, relaxed, 12 step, wrote, slept. The first few days didn't seem to make a difference, but after that, his mind started to seem clearer. The sun seemed a little brighter. His secret to recovery had been found, and it was all in the routine.