Chapter Twenty-one
“Was this really necessary?” grunted Kerrie as she toted a roll of craft paper downstairs to the basement.
“What? I think it’ll be a fun Group.”
“You couldn’t just use printer paper?”
“Absolutely not. That would take all the fun out of it.”
Reese had been surprised to discover a huge roll of craft paper in the hoard. How Joyce had managed to get it into the house was beyond Reese. It had to weigh at least fifty pounds and was three feet wide. It still had the original seal, keeping it from unraveling.
“But at least then my back wouldn’t go out.”
They arrived at the bottom of the stairs, where Kerrie deposited it with a thunk to the ground. Her breath was labored.
Reese tilted her head as she put her hands on her hips. “You didn’t have to carry it for me.”
“I’m not making a woman carry something that heavy.”
“You are aware we are both women, right?”
“You know what I mean,” huffed Kerrie. “Did you put it in your trunk yourself?”
“No, like you, Matty also views me as someone who needs help. I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself, but if you two want to throw your backs out to be chivalrous, then why should I fight it? It saves my back and makes you feel better.”
Kerrie frowned, then muttered, “That sounds like something Bette would say.”
“Smart woman.”
“Miss Reese, I’ve got the list for you,” Tim, the new Upper Sparrow coordinator, said over the bulky yellow walkie-talkie clipped to her jeans. They were allowed casual clothing on Fridays.
“Thank you. Could you take it to Jayvon to put on a playlist for me? Also, are there a few guys around that could help me arrange the basement? Oh, and could you or another green tag go to the cafeteria and get a box of snacks Elaine has for us?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Today was Reese’s favorite day of the week, Fun Friday. Kerrie mostly left it to Reese to run, joining in only occasionally. More formal groups were her style.
It didn’t take long for a few men to come bounding down the stairs. Clients usually liked to stay busy, especially those who used stimulating substances. Their bodies were still very much trying to sort themselves out.
“Okay, guys, we need a lot of wall space and at least a table or two in the middle. John, come here.”
John was a large man, very solidly built with a missing front tooth and a big teddy bear personality. He immediately moved over to her. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Will you move these stacks of chairs into the far corner, please? Blain, will you come upstairs with me and help me carry the supplies down?”
With them all working together, it didn’t take long for them to ready the basement for Fun Friday.
The basement was filled with men, all gathering a cup of coffee and looking slightly confused, especially the newer ones.
“Here’s the snacks, Miss Reese.”
“Thank you, Kenneth.” She placed the box on one of the tables.
She found an assortment of Valentine’s Day cookies about to expire and enough apples for everyone to have one for sure.
“Not a bad haul. So, there’s enough for everyone to have one bag of cookies and one apple.
Please don’t overtake. It took me two weeks of begging to get these.
There won’t be extra. So, today, we’re going to do Fun Friday.
For our new guys, can someone tell them what that is? ”
Blain’s hand raised. He was getting better about waiting to be called on. “Instead of regular Group, we’re doing something fun.”
“Right, and why is that?”
He frowned. “To have fun?”
Reese chuckled. “Yes, to have fun. Does anyone know what the ‘feel good’ chemical inside us is?”
Silence.
She was pretty sure someone knew, but some people were difficult to engage, especially if they were new.
“Dopamine. Dopamine is what helps us to feel enjoyment. It’s what makes us excited for things.
Finding enjoyment during or after drug use can be hard.
Some of that is social issues. You’ve isolated yourself or lost your social support.
Some of you worked and went home and drank until bed, then got up and did it all again, never seeking out things that once made you happy.
Our bodies have all sorts of chemicals and receptors and words I’m not going to bore you with.
Substance use can impact those. Let’s take cocaine users for example.
The high is like dopamine on steroids, but it doesn’t last long.
It’s there and gone, and now you’ve got to go chase it.
Over time, the drug starts to take a toll on your body’s ability to regulate itself. ”
One man looked confused, so she went over to one of the dry-erase boards.
She drew a line. “Um, think of it like this. Your good-feeling endorphins have an average range when you’re not using.
This line is the average. With cocaine, it spikes super high, well above the norm.
” She drew a long arrow pointing up. “What goes up must come down, right?”
Heads nodded.
“Only, at this height, it’s going to drop below the average.
” She drew another line going well below the average.
“Over time, it’s going to keep going up and down, and your body forgets where the average is.
” She scribbled up and down chaotically.
“After a while, bodies forget how to find enjoyment. How to get that high from things other than drugs. Fun Friday is to show you that you can still have fun.”
“Doesn’t fucking do the same thing? I think that would be more fun.”
Reese resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
She turned to the young man who had said it.
He had arrived just a few days ago and was still angry that he was there.
He was trying to make her uncomfortable, but he didn’t realize that Reese was excellent at redirection.
She also knew his DOC was cocaine. “Did you know that male cocaine users are more susceptible to erectile dysfunction because their vascular system can’t get enough blood flow to get an erection?
Or that you have an increased chance of developing priapism, where an erection lasts for more than four hours? ”
Someone snickered, but she pressed on. She stared unflinching at him.
“It’s apparently very painful and can cause permanent damage.
Do you know how they treat it? First, they try medication that is administered directly into the penis with a needle.
If that doesn’t work, then they take a bigger needle, stick it into the penis, and draw the blood out.
I don’t own a penis nor would I ever want to, but I feel like Fun Friday sounds more enjoyable. ”
He swallowed hard, looking away from her. Now he was the one uncomfortable and had learned that she was not easily rattled.
“Anyway, today we’re going to activate our feel-good endorphins with a little art therapy and music. Jayvon is getting the playlist ready. We’ll play it while we work. Can I get a volunteer?”
Blain stepped forward, arm reaching up. “Awesome. And can I get that roll of paper over here?”
The roll was brought to the center. “Could you unroll a good length? It needs to be longer than Blain is tall.”
She walked over to the table where they had scattered markers, pens, crayons, paint, and paintbrushes. She selected a black marker. “Blain, lie down.”
He did as he was told, grinning up at everyone when he was flat on his back. Reese handed the marker to Tim. “Arms flat, Blain. Tim, please trace an outline.”
Blain all but giggled when the marker brushed against his ribs, making others chuckle.
When the outline was traced, he popped up admiring the paper.
Reese grabbed a pair of scissors and cut the paper.
It was longer than she was tall, so she held it up high, pointing at a roll of tape.
“Someone taller than me hang this on the wall, please.”
John hung it up on the closest wall. Reese then drew a line down the center from head to crotch.
“We’re going to use our imaginations today.
It’s probably been a long time since some of you have painted or colored.
I want you to decorate these however you want, but the catch is that one half has to be you during active addiction, and the other is what recovery would be for you.
It can be all colors, like angry red on one side and calm blue on the other.
It can be a sad man on one side and a happy one on the other.
Whatever active addiction and recovery look like to you.
While you work, we’ll play your songs and have some snacks and some coffee.
We’re just going to hang out this time.”
“This sounds boring. No offense, Ms. Reese,” complained another young man.
“Just humor me, okay. It won’t kill you.”
The key to getting the reluctant ones to get involved was often one-on-one attention. People were shy in group settings. Reese was not. She was in her element.
Once the music started, things really began to liven up.
Since electronics weren’t allowed, getting to listen to music was a treat.
Each man got to pick a song they wanted to hear.
Some was rap, some country, and a healthy dose of rock.
The younger ones played songs Reese had never heard of and hoped not to hear again, while the older ones went with more classics.
There was something about music that could connect them all.
Each man had their own paper hung and media selected. The music helped ease them into opening up with their art. The snacks helped boost the mood even further.
“Ms. Reese, how do you spell disease?”
She walked over to a man named Walker. He was probably about her age and on Kerrie’s caseload. “D-i-s-e-a-s-e. What do we have here?”
The paper was filled with words. Words like "hell," "despair," and "lonely" were on one side, and the other was filled with more positive ones like "loved," "happy," and "family" on the other. She nodded approvingly.
“This is good. I really like it.”
“You do?” he asked, surprised.