early2000s | fuckshit x oc | mid90s

December 23, 1999 III

"Hi, welcome to BH Rehab Center."

Welcome? Acting like this is a fucking resort.

"Last name please."

As my parents checked me in, I took in the environment. It was bland, gray, and definitely not welcoming.

"OK Olan, I have to give you a medical assessment, okay?" a high pitched voice says, chewing on some gum.

I look up to see where the voice is coming from. The girl looks to be in her early 30's and already, I don't like her. Smacking that gum all up in my face. I furrowed my eyebrows.

All of a sudden, I was hit with a wave of anxiety. I figured that it was because I was nervous of what's to come. Shit, I mean I'm in fucking rehab.

"Bye honey, we love you," my mom says, giving me a hug.

"This is for your own good," my dad nods.

I didn't say anything back.

"My name is Lisa," the woman says, holding out her hand to get me to shake it.

"Whatever."

"Okay. Well, follow me," she says as she started to sashay away.

She led me further away from the reception room and opens a door, waiting for me to enter. It was a little office. Compared to every other one I'd seen, it was definitely more vivid and welcoming. There were pictures of her and who I'd assume to be her boyfriend or husband on the desk, and a dog. I don't know breeds or anything like that, but it was a dog.

"So, let's get started shall we?" she says, sitting down at the desk across from me.

"So, again, I'm Lisa and I'm your initial counselor. Basically what I'm going to be asking you today is just about your drug history, what you want to accomplish here, and so on," she says. "Is that okay with you, Olan?"

"Sure, but I don't really go by Olan," I start.

"Oh really? Thank you for telling me. What would you like me to call you?"

"Fuckshit," I say, leaning back on the chair.

"Interesting..."

"Tell me something I haven't heard before," I say.

"Woah, don't worry, I'm not judging you or anything. Let's start the examination now huh?"

She gets out her clipboard and grabs a pen from one of the drawers, adjusting her glasses on her nose.

"Let's start with your history of use and what you currently use."

"Well, a couple years ago I used to drink a lot of alcohol, but I don't know if I would've considered myself an addict. I don't drink anymore though," I say, comforting myself by rubbing my hands.

"Okay, anything else?"

"I-I smoked cigarettes a lot... and weed. I mean, I still smoke weed though," I stutter. "Do I have to stop smoking weed?" I ask.

Shit, I mean I see where you're going trying to get me off of pills and shit, but does weed even count as a drug?

"Well, do you need it for medical use?"

"Well—"

"That's what I thought. Yes, you have to stop."

Fuck.

"Why did you stop drinking?" she asked.

"To say the least, it doesn't mix well with the pills," I say, chuckling and avoiding eye contact. "And I acted like a real fucking dickhead."