The Self Portrait

The Self Portrait

Now, there were six others in the centre when I arrived, one was about to leave, they called it graduating and another would leave after another three weeks. So four of us all started within a week, all in a different state of emotions and physical strength.

One did what they call detox, which means they entered the centre still full of their substance, so they have to detox to rid their body of it, a bit like when people go to a spa weekend, to rid themselves of all the free radicals, this could mean a introduction of a drug to help this process.

I don’t know the names of them but what I saw, were people in a trance/zombie like state, not knowing where they were or what day it was, you may say well serves them right addicts need to suffer but don’t forget anybody can become that addict, I mean I did, so that just cements my view on that.

As I said earlier we were all different like chalk and cheese but we shared that same thing, addiction. We all supported each other in an almost tribal way, we all helped to cook, clean and shop, we took turns in being a group leader which came with a different set of responsibilities.Our daily routine was set, we would have working and therapy groups which we all had to attend, and to be on time and be dressed in a appropriate work like manner.

No before you ask Tommy Cooper was not here

Therapy, we called it the magic circle, this was where the hard work started and in twelve weeks would finish, hopefully cured of everything from alcoholism to zoonosis (you will have to look that disease up). If only that were true.

No Mulberry bush

Trust and confidentiality. What was said in the magic circle stayed in it, the trust relationship between us users and the councillor was built up over a few sessions, as we sat in our little circle truths came out that were hard to take and even harder to tell. There were tears, there was anger, and sometimes a deafly silence ( which seemed more silent than it was), the stories the acknowledgment that we are all addicts, the deep seated memories told in life stories were spoken with conviction and determination, as the rest of the circle sat digesting what was said, those stories/facts of life were hard to contemplate, to understand, yet we all sat and gave support, the trust that was being built between us I hope would make an unbreakable bond, never to divulge outside that magic circle.

Now for me my addictions, as I said before, came from a hidden depression and a middle age “thing”. I told my life stories as much as I could remember, I did find it very hard to do the emotional thing and open up 100 %, I had too many barriers, blocks and a defence system that has kept my emotional self in a safe place for many years, basically I hide behind a wall that was very thick. I don’t get emotional over people things, I never have, but anything animal related I do tear up. I was a drinker and it was my fault, no one else, all mine, no excuses. There were a few there that would literally be physically sick just talking about things, but with the appropriate tools they were able to overcome this, I have to take my hat off to them they achieved so much.

First Sketch of My Self-Portrait

Back to Child Of and Sam , we were given a simple brief to draw something that you hold dear in your life and build up a picture that was me. I really like soul music (and now any music from the 60s,70s,80s) and going on holiday, hence the beach.

I know I should have chosen my family but I’m not very good at drawing, so I chose me. Some would say I always choose me. So I had a brain storm and came up with that idea. Hedgehogs were an interesting thing but a bit prickly to manage. So with Sam giving inspiration and my very small bit of creative talent I started to plan.

Park Bench

This is the old park bench under a tree a good place for people of addiction to meet and share their wares.

I by complete luck never got to this stage, which I will be eternally grateful for, I’m not saying I’m cured or anything as ridiculous as that but I’m as far away from that bench as I have ever been.

Now we live in a world where we can buy three cases of beer for the price of two, a bottle of Vodka or Gin isn’t keeping up with price inflation, but we are unable to pay our fuel bills.

That discounted way to get the consumer to use more is surely wrong, and no I’m not part of any radical anti-drinking group, I clearly believe in a self-policing policy when it comes to alcohol consumption, the government have stated guide lines, but that did not work for me.

I just hope it works for you.

Just being away from everything I normally did for twelve weeks was horrid, meeting fellow addicts/users was amazing but not everyone can cope with it, nine people came and left without being able to complete the course, they either succumbed to their substance, couldn’t take the regime, had too much outside pressure or just didn’t want to do it. I truly believe when you’re ready for it you’re ready, it’s a bit black and white but I feel that’s what happened to me. When you are using you’re as selfish as selfish can be and you have to take that with you when you enter the rehab route. Coming out you still need to be very aware, reducing that selfishness as time goes by, so I’ve been told.

Vulture On A Grave Stone :- States the year I Got help, I wanted to draw something that told a story in an instant, for me Vodka bingeing, so i came up with this.

Sorry about the folds

Another stage of my self-portrait, this has a mouth in the picture, it seems I like mouths too, they do feature a bit in my art. Headphones, the keep the faith fist ( dating back to the Northern Soul era ) and a record ( 45 rpm ). It may be a bit old fashion but a least I can say I was there. Yes Northern Soul shown live on the Proms just a couple weeks ago.

As I said mouths. This is my drawing etched on a piece of vinyl that I cut out using strange looking tools, again I did this sort of thing back in the days of school. This then had ink/paint rolled onto it, and is placed on a piece of paper and you have a print. I did this sort of thing back in my school days, this was all part of the self-portrait project that Sam of Child Of did with us.

Another picture for the portrait

I am giving the impression that, it was all art and therapy but there were moments of sheer stupidity and fun. There was someone from an old eastern bloc country, his story was equally as shocking, trying to grow up in a system where it was supposed to be everyone was equal, only the rich were equal, so he ended up here, worked paying his taxes but eventually fell foul to a substance, when the person arrived here some twenty years ago he was a social drinker ( strange word that social, you drink then become anti-social ), he had a gift to raise a smile even when he was in a dark place, gallows humour I think, one of his ways of telling us time for medicine, our morning routine, was to shout in his East European voice, in a goat like bleat MEEEEEEEEEEEEDS.

The strain of living together with people you who were thrown together with, is really only seen on a TV reality programme. The tensions mounted at times and did over-flow, nothing violent just words shouted about, but in true life outside rehab this is normal, but we are not normal are we, we are addicts trying to cope with life without our substance.

The strain of it all on my wife. Again it’s down to me, not once when I was able to phone home did I ask my wife how she was with me not being around, how was she coping at home alone, did she think what was she going to get when I eventually arrived after twelve weeks. Now home, how does she cope with the new me, a dry me. I don’t think it’s the fact I’m here, it’s more about the questions, if I no longer drink can she have a drink ( a glass of wine with a meal that sort of thing) though she has never been a drinker, should I be allowed my plastic cards or money (prior to rehab my money was limited to prevent me drinking but I still found a way. What is she going to find when she gets home when she been to work, how do we live together without that drink in me. It is very early days at the moment, we just have to wait and see, and I have to allow time and let the trust build in its own way.

The same goes for my children, my drinking also effected them and me being the one who just didn’t care at times must have amplified the matter hundred fold. That’s a story that will unfold over a course of time. In fact all my family I have to say sorry and a huge thank you for still being here.

I wrote a poem as well, while I was away, I know, a poet as well!

There was once a bottle from hell, I knew so well.

It didn’t have horns or a tail but, I Knew it so well.

I dance with it, caressed it, I knew it so well.

I stole for it, I lied for it, I knew it so well.

I was in control, I was happy, I knew it so well.

I was Superman, Spiderman, I knew it so well.

I loved it, I possessed it, I knew it so well.

I laughed at it, I denied about it, I knew it so well.

It was the important thing in my life, I knew it so well.

Then guess what.

The trust I had in it has gone, I knew it so well.

I belonged to it, I knew it so well.

The anger it left, I knew it so well.

The sweats, shakes and nightmares, I knew it so well.

The arguments, the wretchedness, I knew it so well.

The tiredness of life, I knew it so well.

The pains in my body, I knew it so well.

The shit in my pants, I knew it so well.

I don’t know about tomorrow, but I know yesterday I didn’t know you and today I don’t know you either.

The same goes for my children, my drinking also effected them and me being the one who just didn’t care at times must have amplified the matter hundred fold. That’s a story that will unfold over a course of time. In fact all my family I have to say sorry and a huge thank you for still being here.

So back to the rehab house (now going to call it the Big House), meal times were a time that there was actual peace in the house, some meals were created with flare, time and love all to be consumed in minutes, sweet chilli and ketchup was used on most things( to my horror) but I got used to that. There was definitely a bit of one up-Manship amongst the cooking people trying and sometimes out doing each other’s creations, which was all very friendly. Me being a chef I was able to help anybody if needed, but I also wanted to outdo.

This is another picture I did towards my self-portrait, which for me just sums the music thing up.

This depicts Tamla Mowtown record label from Detroit in the USA ( In my mind music is the best thing that has come out of there), the words coming from the mouths are songs and the artist.

So when drawing out my portrait I thought it would look similar to an earlier picture. I did most of my drawing in my room it was very peaceful the isolation felt good and calming.

The finished item, started in the Big House, Finished in My House June 2023

Yes it Is quite different, the tree and back ground face when doing it became more spooky, I calling it ‘Music In A Ghostly Wood’.

I layered the paint several times, the tree was a one piece drawing using pastels (which was the first time used), on previous pictures I used old fashion chalk. I found I could blend the colours better, I am now practicing using paints and brushes, but early days. Sam, helped tremendously by not interfering, just the odd nudge in a direction and a calming voice that helped all of us to work on our pieces of art. When she had said we are going to do some painting, groans were evident from some, but she clearly stated I don’t believe no one can draw, paint or express themselves on paper, plus it was a nice relaxed change from the magic circle and other more intense groups, I would like to say a big thank you to Sam and Child Of for that.

 See you all soon