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My Kingdom for a Haribo....

  • By girly-d
  • On 16/10/2017

Having us compete against each other to see which team could  build the best midget gem bridge using said midget gems and cocktail sticks, was the brain child of one of the support workers in detox -  It was supposed to keep us out of mischief for an hour while the rest of the staff had a much needed cup of tea.

Unfortunately all it did was create chaos... for two reasons. One, we were none of us five years old - and told her so, and two, you don't give recovering addicts with an insatiable craving for sugar, sweets. Everyone knows that. It sent us crackers.

Haribo was literally currency in there. Tangfastics were like gold dust by the end of each week. It's all we ever put on our shopping lists. Haribo's, and tobacco if you smoked.

Anyway, three quarters of the midget gems  were gone before she'd even got our attention. Which meant that we had uneven numbers of sweets to 'compete' with...which made it unfair...Which meant that it was a pointless exercise. We ate the rest of the sweets while I relayed this information to her when she came to check on our progress. Which was obviously non-existent - much to her dismay. 

Her day got progressively worse when I refused to take part in her second genius idea,  which involved "making a tower out of marshmallows and dried spaghetti"... again, because I am not five years old. 

She tried to insist... told me to "let my inner child out to play" which I replied that my inner child had already consumed far too many e-numbers for one day thank you very much, and would therefore be much better off if left to read her book quietly on the sofa - in case all of the midget gems she'd consumed in record time earlier suddenly made her sick...

Long story short. I didn't have to make the tower.

Instead I was given a warning and sent to sit on the naughty step (aka the sofa)...which was kind of my plan all along...


Because up until this point I had been completely compliant in treatment. I hadn't dared to say no to anything...but now my inner rebel was starting to stir.

Which meant that I was getting better.

I was finding my voice.

Which meant that it  was time to start thinking about getting the rock out of here and onto stage two.

I'd been a model patient in detox. But inner diva was stirring...

They were going to love me in rehab...


health not the slide mental health decisions me myself and i inner diva