THE LAST DAY OF REHAB

We Follow Five Women Who Completed an Intensive Drug-Addiction
Program. Their Odds of Success Are Not Great

After 24 days in rehab, the haze of years of drug addiction has
lifted.

Gone are the dark circles beneath the women's bloodshot eyes. Track
marks snaking up arms from nicotine-stained fingers have faded.

On this January day, they will be walking out to start a new life. No
drugs and no booze.

The women are excited. But they are also anxious about returning to
the outside world. What will happen when they face reality?

"I'm feeling really scared," says Tina, the youngest of the six women
who completed the rehabilitation program at Hope Place Women's
Treatment Centre in Milton. "I don't wanna leave."

This two-storey house, at the end of a long driveway that cuts through
rolling hills, has been a sanctuary, a place where they are safe -
from drug pushers, temptation and addiction triggers, both physical
and psychological.

But now they will be on their own and the stakes are
high.

"If I ever screw up in my sobriety, I'll never see my little son again
and that's the thing that eats away at me," says Tina, wiping tears
away just minutes before stepping out into the bone-chilling winter
air.

Before leaving, the women gather for Graduation Day.

Three clients are missing. One woman quit on the first day and two
were sent home. Counsellors cannot risk keeping clients around who
derail the others.

The graduates, all of whom are mothers, range in age between 20 and 41
and each has a different tale to tell of how she ended up here. One
woman is a high-school dropout who smoked crack throughout her
pregnancy. Another is a university-educated suburban housewife hooked
on painkillers.

Lianne, 25, is a crack addict from Brampton hoping to regain custody
of her baby twins. Also desperate to be reunited with her son is Tina,
20, from Almonte, a small town on the outskirts of Ottawa. Veronica,
28, plans to move away from her hometown of Port Colborne, in Niagara
Region, because she worries about running into her old drug dealers.

Catherine, 37, is a stay-at-home mom from Burlington whose husband has
threatened to leave her if she doesn't kick her addiction to
prescription pills. Karen, 27, from Kitchener struggles with addiction
and mental health issues that have plagued her since she was a child.
Joan, a 41-year-old crack addict from Burlington, is the only woman of
this group who was mandated to Hope Place.

Five of these women have been in rehab before and they know that as
tough as treatment can be, that is the easy part of recovery.

The real challenges will come when they return home, to the very
places where they once used drugs and back among the same people they
used with.

They agreed to share their stories of addiction and recovery with the
Star. In some cases, aliases were used. And for the next five months,
all of the women, except for Joan, will stay in touch.

Returning home is "gonna be a really big struggle for me," says
Lianne, who has been smoking weed since the age of 12. "It's the only
thing I'm worried about: going home and smoking a joint."

Veronica, who is trying to regain custody of her 14-month-old
daughter, is nervous about her boyfriend, a former cocaine user who
still smokes marijuana.

Her big triggers, she says, will appear when she returns home to Port
Colborne. That is why she plans to move away.

"I have a fear in me and I hope that fear keeps me sober," she says.
"They've prepared us for the bad, the ugly and the worst - and I'm
prepared to stand up to all of it."

Since opening its doors in March 1990, Hope Place has taken in about
2,300 clients.

A dozen of the beds are provincially funded - annual funding is just
more than $600,000 - and three are set aside for paying clients.

While at Hope Place, women participate in individual and group
therapy, and creative activities such as writing a letter to their
drug of choice and then burning it.

The 12-step program is steeped in the philosophy of Alcoholics
Anonymous, which promotes abstinence rather than harm reduction. That
means no drugs and no alcohol. The women are shuttled to AA and
Narcotics Anonymous meetings in a rusted old van, sputtering toward
its final days.

It is tough to say how many women relapse, since counsellors
occasionally lose contact with clients after they leave. But Hope
Place staff estimate about 40 per cent slip up within a month of leaving.

"Relapse is a very big part of addiction," says Jacqie Shartier,
executive director of Hope Place Centres. "There's no such word as
'cured' in the addictions field."

Badly needed, she says, is second-stage supportive housing that is
specific to addiction recovery. Often, women return home to unsafe
living conditions where others around them are abusing substances.

The odds of staying clean are not great. Karen knows this all too
well.

The 27-year-old, who is bipolar and addicted to cocaine and crack, has
been in residential rehab five times. Her depression, she says, is
linked to her drug use. And vice versa. So not only will she have to
be wary of triggers, but also her mental health.

"There's a dealer right across from me and another right beside me,"
says Karen, who plans to seek an emergency transfer from her
subsidized housing unit.

Of all the women, Catherine stands out. She has perfectly coiffed
strawberry blond hair, wears neatly pressed pinstriped slacks and
often accessorizes with a gold chain or a jewelled bracelet.

She is the only woman who is married and attended university, where
she studied modern languages. She lives in a middle-class
neighbourhood in Burlington. And, unlike all the others, she has
custody of her daughters.

But she is an addict, dependent on Percocet and OxyContin, which her
doctors prescribed for chronic pain.

"A drug is a drug, whether you're buying it on the street or getting
it from a pharmacy," says Catherine. "It will kill you eventually. If
it doesn't kill your body, it will kill your soul."

When they leave, the clients are encouraged to attend support groups,
such as Alcoholics Anonymous and Narcotics Anonymous, as well as
aftercare programs that help them regain their place in the community.

At the aftercare program run by Hope Place, clients learn how to
prevent relapses, deal with triggers, cope with stress, access
community services and prepare resumes.

Counsellors make follow-up phone calls to clients, who are also told
to stay in touch. But not all do.

On Graduation Day, Catherine is one of the last to leave. Her husband
arrives to pick her up. He gives her a long-stemmed red rose and they
embrace.

"Thanks for all your help," he tells the counsellors, as his eyes well
up. "This is a new beginning for us."

[sidebar]

THE SERIES

TODAY

They faced their addictions in rehab; now they face
reality.

TOMORROW

Tina's Story: Torn between baby and boyfriend

MONDAY

Veronica's Story: Temptations of a hometown

TUESDAY

Catherine's Story: The agony of painkillers

WEDNESDAY

Karen's Story: Managing addiction and mental health

THURSDAY

Lianne's Story: Choosing between kids and crack

FRIDAY

Epilogue: They have just passed the five-month mark. Where are they now?