HOW I GOT KICKED OUT OF REHAB

No matter where I go in this world I carry with me a certain amount of experiences........after all,  we all do.  Our stuff is what makes us unique and this unique-ness for some of us is easier to carry than others.  I had a dream this morning which connects a few of the dots that have been floating around in my head.  I have found that when these dots float around enough and smack into one another enough I come here to write and get it out.  


I came to Los Angeles to make amends for many things.........my lack of family connectivity.....what would happen to my son if I didn't recover......and with Los Angeles itself from when I came here a few times to visit my father.  I have to tell you that the first day I went back to college I knew I was in the right place.  I knew I was meant to learn this skill and get  these answers and possibly become a transmitter of information to help other people.  All of these things felt so absolutely right.  For the first time that I can recall I didn't sabotage myself.  Not with drama, a man, or a situation did I confuse myself.  I was focused and motivated.  I was in the right place at the right time with the most amazing students and teachers.  


I received answers about my life and childhood and that cast of dubious characters that were my parents.  I put my ducks in a row.  I went into therapy and did an even further in depth collecting of my ducks and not only were they put in a row, they were dressed and ready for anything that could come our way.  


I was on the Dean's list all three of the semesters I was in school.  I studied, I read, I swallowed all and every fear I ever had cause for the first time in a long, long time I was in the right place.  I graduated with family and friends around me.  The world was out there and I was going to go forth and help someone.  After all I had life experience as well as a certificate in addiction counseling.  I was in Los Angeles, the land of 'who are you, what is your title".  I finally had a title.......Laura Joy, Counselor.  


Now comes the hard part that I have been swallowing for about a year and a half now.  I am so completely angry over this that perhaps if I write about it and tell all of you and let it out I will feel better and remove the obstacle that I know is not in front of me but literally on top of me.


I got kicked out of rehab.  Not for arriving high as a kite, not for showing up like a fruit loop, not for being inebriated........but for being proud and happy to share all that I had learned about Judaism and addiction.  I had taken my two loves......my beautiful faith and heritage and my very dysfunctional past and did my internship at a Jewish house of recovery.  It never occurred to me that I had to be careful.  I was a student....I was there to learn.  I felt that as long as I  heeded those around me and respected what they knew I would be ok.  


I showed up after driving often after an hour in traffic to a volunteer job.  That means I wasn't paid to be there.....I need to be clear about this.  I wasn't an employee.  No one took me very seriously although they were kind enough to allow me to hang out there and get my mandated hours.  I would sometimes arrive early enough to sit in on the Torah lesson of the day.  This should have been my first red flag but it wasn't.  


My beautiful rabbinical teacher once said that once something is written down it loses something because for ever afterward people can point to it and say, "see it says this there".  Then people stop thinking and they just take in those particular words and that's the end of it.  I would like to add to this and also point out that people can also point to words in a book and twist it to how they perceive it to be and then teach it to others.  This isn't always correct and power often becomes the motivator in teaching....not the underlying lesson.


So I soon realized in rehab that I was practically invisible.  No one was going to give me anything to do.  I was a 40 something year old woman that looked and felt out of her element but I know how to do something very special.  I know how to talk to and listen to strangers.  So I began hanging out with the residents.  People are so beautiful when they 're healing.  Stories poured out of many of these people to me and I am so grateful to have learned and shared with them.  


One person in particular got me each time I saw her with how much her soul was open and her hunger to heal.  She was't Jewish and yet here she was in this very Jewish recovery house.  She had been in many different places of spiritual structures.  I imagine she was a healer who had lost her way as well.  She had given all she could and had lost her way and almost lost her mind.  She was on the mend and was so clear to me.


One day she and I had a conversation and I asked her if she had thought about taking on a Hebrew name.  For those of you that don't know about this practice allow me to explain.  In a person's life what you are called can change.  From a child hood nickname to the adult version of your given name.....from a single woman to a married woman's last name....from a married woman to a divorced status......or standing in front of G-d and your community and becoming 'mitzvah'd  .....you choose your Hebrew name.  There is also a belief in Judaism that when you are really ill and you come through a really horrible period in your life you can choose a new Hebrew name and in fact have a new way of being recognized in the Universe.  And like a lot of ceremonies, it's not the word, it's the power of the journey that is healing.  


This client seemed so clearly to me to be ready for this.  I spoke to the counselor in charge of her and asked what SHE thought of this and got the green light.  I want to be clear about this......at no time did I just blindly take it upon myself to just start something.  I got permission.   I was supposed to get a book of Hebrew names to help the resident with some suggestions.  I was only there twice a week so time was a factor here.  One day I saw one of the rabbis and asked him if he had a book of Hebrew names.  Instead of being helpful....he questioned me as to what i wanted it for.  It never occurred to me to do anything other than telling the truth.  His reaction was not only bizarre but so unexpected.  He got angry.


He pulled me and the resident into his office and I could see on her face that she realized what was wrong even before I did.  I had stepped outside of my boundary and into his territory of rabbinical authority.  I have to share with you that unlike the secular counselors in this place I actually understood not only the choreography of a service, I also understood why Jews do what they do when they do it.  I was not a convert, I was not some random once a year visitor to my faith.  I had just spent three years of deep study and learning and I have to tell you how proud I am to be able to say I am a very learned Jewish woman.  Do I respect the rabbis?  Of course I do.  Do I know more than a rabbi does?  Of course I don't.  Do I have a skill and aptitude to communicate with others about spiritual matters as it pertains to them.............you 're damn right I do.  


This particular rabbi not only didn't take this as an opportunity to teach as his name (rabbi) literally means.....to teach.....he took it one step further.  He had me fired from my volunteer position.  At no time did anyone tell me that I couldn't discuss or share spiritual matters with the residents.  Do you know why they didn't warn me?  Because most of them didn't know anything about Judaism other than the barely basic tenets of their faith.  They couldn't have explained to the residents why we turn to the door during a Friday night service much less what Kadosh, Kadosh, Kadosh means.  So how could I be warned about stepping on the rabbi's toes?


I doubt that woman ever got to pick her Hebrew name as part of her healing.  I am sure that she then saw the rabbinical staff as some sort of cult like power hungry secret society.  I am so sorry I wasn't allowed at least to explain myself thoroughly to this rabbi that in fact I wasn't trying to practice his job but rather support it.  I was so proud that I had these tools along with my Judaism that it never occurred to me that I couldn't be a 'Light unto the nations".  


I stopped going to services after this.  I stopped going to mishna class.  I didn't go to services on the High Holy Days that I so love.  I cut myself off from my Jewish community completely.  And for what?   My anger at one rabbi?  Because I was thrown out of that Jewish rehab without any deeper inspection as to their behavior?  Yeah.


I resorted to the oldest pattern I have.  When something hurts so deep and bad I perform a kind of psychic surgery.  The truth is my Jewish community did nothing to ME.  They don't even know I was hurt or why I went away.  Judaism is such a communal experience that I can't go there without clearing this baggage away once and for all.


I am angry that I allowed one very limiting rabbi to throw me off my track of something that I love with all my heart and soul.  I really love what I've learned while studying Judaism and I really loved what I learned about addiction studies and in one fell swoop I cut both out of my life.  I convinced myself that I could do without both of these things.  I am wrong.  I need to move forward and feed my soul the way I see fit....not for any one else but me.


Power is a very addictive drug on it's own.  Power can convince someone that their authority is clearer and better than those around them.  Not all aspects of organized religion are bad or corrupt.  I need to continue to remind myself of this so that I don't suffer.  


In another reality I would have been sat down, talked to about this, listened to and then we all would have moved on.  That didn't happen.  So ok.......now what?  I have a talent and a need to help and I know now that I need to keep things separate.  I need a new direction, a new path, and a new cast of characters.  This feels better now that I've gotten this out.  It always does.