Mind Games
Sobriety Cured My Depression
I thought self-medication was a solution, not part of the problem
I dip my oar into the water and push my kayak away from the dock. I can see Evan and Cassy ahead of me, threatening to capsize each other and giggling. Beyond them, the San Rafael Bridge cuts the skyline in half: bulbous hilltops on the bottom, speckled clouds on top. The sun heats my arms as I glide toward my friends.
It’s one of those days people go on vacation for. But this is no vacation. We’re strictly instructed to paddle out only as far as the bridge. After 90 exact minutes, we must be back at the dock. Once we unload, the seven of us will pile back into our counselor’s minivan — the “druggy buggy” as we affectionately call it — and ascend the spiraled road up to Bayside Marin Treatment Center.
Our counselor will sign our worksheets, indicating our successful participation in “sober fun day,” and we’ll trudge up to the dining hall for lunch. That afternoon? Therapy, followed by group therapy, more therapy, and a 12-step meeting.
I’m not thinking about any of that, though, as I make my way over to Evan and Cassy. Evan grabs the side of my boat and jiggles it.
“Dare you not to fall in!”
