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Celebrity Rehab With Jeff Hardy

Chapter 4: Group

"Jeff. Why don't you go next?" Dr. Martinez suggested as the group sat on the chairs, performing the oral part of their activity. Jeff stood, flashing Free a small smile and putting the paper out of view. He didn't need it. He had listened intently to every single word she'd said, and memorized most of it. He had never been so genuinely interested in hearing about someone's life before.

"Okay, well I learned Free and I have a lot in common. We like the same kind of music and movies. We both have brothers, and our moms both passed away when we were young. She's twenty-two. Uh... she's a model. Her dad's in Poison. I think she's sensitive, and sweet. Maybe a little quiet at first. And I know that I would be friends with her even if we weren't here," Jeff presented before sitting back down again.

Dr. Martinez smiled. She hadn't notice Jeff connecting with anyone since his arrival, where as all the other patients seemed to have someone they were always with. This could mean progress for him. He hadn't been very open in group, keeping mostly quiet. And in single sessions, Dr. Callahan had reported that he was a little sarcastic and snippy, and very cynical. "And how about you Free?"

Feeling a little uncomfortable, Free stood, just as everyone else had and rubbed at her arms. "Um, well, Jeff's a professional wrestler, on TV and everything. He has an older brother named Matt and he lives in North Carolina. He loves Pearl Jam and he doesn't have a favorite color, because he likes them all. He's an artist and a musician. He looks at things differently... in a unique sort of way. I don't know, I can't really explain it. You'd have to talk to him to understand what I mean. But I would definitely be friends with him outside of rehab," Free finished, her words rushed, trying to get this over with as quickly as she could.

Dr. Martinez smiled and Free sat back down next to Jeff, inconspicuously looking at him from the corner of her eye, trying to see if there was any reaction on his face. Jeff was looking right at her, a little less discretely, and flashed a reassuring smile, sensing her nervousness. He'd never been able to read someone's emotions so well in his life.

Everyone had claimed they would be friends with the person they worked with outside of the facility, but Free wasn't so sure if they just said that to be nice or if they were actually making a connection. She couldn't imagine all these people had bonded like she had with Jeff in those mere twenty minutes.

"Great job guys. I'm glad you're all building relationships with you peers here. It's important to feel comfortable and safe and also to have someone to talk to that isn't a therapist while undergoing treatment," Dr. Martinez concluded, since Free had been the final person to go. When the older, Hispanic woman's eyes locked on Free, Jeff could sense her nerves once again, and Free tensed. "Before I let you go get some lunch, I think we should have a group discussion. Free, would you like to start?"

The poor girl looked like a deer caught in the headlights? What was she supposed to tell them? She was a twenty two year old heroin addict, the poor little rockstar's daughter? "Um... I... I don't—"

"I'll start," Jeff offered, surprising even Dr. Martinez herself. In Jeff's mind he was going to set an example for Free, though he hadn't been very open about discussing his issues prior to this session. But now he had to make sure she knew it was okay to tell these people what her problem was, why she was here, and what she was looking to accomplish.

Dr. Martinez's red lips pulled into a wide, toothy smile as she crossed her short legs and leaned forward a little. Jeff hadn't really talked about anything in group since he'd been here, just commenting every once in a while. When Dr. Martinez had tried to motivate him to open up, he stubbornly refused, but he'd only been here about a week. "Wonderful Jeff. Why don't you let everyone know why you're here?"

Jeff sighed softly, cracking his knuckles before glancing over at Free, seeing her gnawing on her short fingernails. "Well, I used to have a drug problem a few years back. I got over it, but lately, I've been stressed about work. I mean, I travel all the time. I hardly ever get to relax. And bein' a wrestler requires so much physically... I said it was only gonna be this once a few months ago. I took some painkillers that I shouldnt've been takin' and then I did the same thing the next time my back hurt or my shoulders were sore. I guess... I guess it got outta hand. We get these... random drug tests and as soon as I got my papers that day... I knew I was screwed. I tested positive and I got suspended for sixty days."

"How did that make you feel Jeff?" Dr. Martinez asked and Free looked over at Jeff in wonder. How could they not be allowed to take painkillers? Was it such a bad thing?

"Mad. I couldn't believe I was gettin' suspended because I was supposed to be gettin' the big title. I would've been one of the top paid superstars with that title around my waist. It was my big break. But then I realized I blew it. When I was at home, I realized I let everyone down; my dad, my brother, my fans. And it sucks feelin' like that."

A few people nodded their heads in agreement, understanding where Jeff was coming from. No one wants to disappoint the ones they love. "And how did you end up here Jeff? You signed yourself in, so why?"

Jeff stayed silent for a minute, lips pursed tightly as he thought about the devastating fire that had destroyed all his property and his poor, poor Jack. Jeff could feel the tears stinging his eyes, but pushed them back. "I went over to my friend's tattoo shop a few days into my suspension and my brother calls and tells me my fuckin' house is on fire. I lost everythin'. And that includes my dog. I loved that dog. He was the most consistent thing in my life and that's how I repay him; lettin' him burn to death," Jeff growled through his clenched teeth.

Jeff looked over at his arm to see a small hand, with short, jagged fingernails pressed on his wrist, in a comforting manner. It did so much more than that for him though. The simple gesture led Jeff to continue when he was about to close up again. "After that happened I completely shut down. I stayed with my brother but I could tell he was afraid for me. And my dad too. The rehab is optional as part of the wellness policy at work, but when my brother asked me about whether I was gonna go or not, I decided to. I didn't wanna be makin' him and my dad feel like shit just because I did."

Dr. Martinez cleared her throat and turned serious. "Jeff, you know you can't blame yourself for your dog's death. That's going to be your first step in recovery; learning that blame doesn't always have to be placed. Some things just happen without anyone being at fault."

Jeff listened to her words, the usual cynical thoughts he'd been having since he'd been here when he'd listen to what she said to the other patients returning. He was obsessed, absolutely obsessed with the fire that took his Jack away. "Jeff, are you okay?" Free whispered as Lauren began talking about her crack addiction.

Jeff looked up at the blue-eyed girl and found his comfort. His body relaxed a little form the tensed state it had been in and he nodded. "Yeah, I'll be fine," he assured her, wishing he hadn't when her hand lifted from his arm and the warmth he'd felt suddenly left his body.

He hadn't mentioned the fire to her at all, or his dog. Free felt awful for him when she took all this information in, wondering how someone deals with all that in such a short period of time. But of course, he was here. She normally wouldn't be so bold as to put her hand on someone like that, especially when she'd only known them for less than a day. But Jeff had looked near tears and it had been almost magnetic, as if she had no control over the matter anyway.

"Who else would like to discuss something?" Dr. Martinez asked again, looking at Free, but not directly asking her to participate. However Free slowly raised her hand, surprising Jeff a little. But it made him feel good. It made him feel like he'd actually done what he'd tried to do. And that was the first time that Jeff had felt accomplished in a long time. "Go ahead Free."

"Um, I... I have a heroin dependency." This shocked no one since the track marks were easily visible on her arms. "My mother was a heroin addict too. And she died from it. And I'm here because I don't want to die." Jeff's heart broke at the strain in Free's voice as she began crying.

Dr. Martinez looked sympathetically at free and Veronica covered her mouth, trying not to cry herself. As a mother of two, it upset her to see a girl so young in a place like this. "When was the last time you used?" the doctor questioned. Jeff was eager to know this information. Everyone was. They were all expecting the inevitable. A bad withdrawal. It was heroin, after all.

"Like, two hours before I checked in," Free admitted, ashamed and sobbing. In her upset state, she began scratching at her arms once again. Dr. Martinez got the idea that Free didn't want to keep talking, being very good at reading people.

"Free, you can talk about this privately later tonight if it makes you more comfortable," the woman suggested, to which Free nodded her blonde head, eyes directed at her lap and tears streaming from her eyes. "All right, unless anyone else has something they'd like to talk about, you'd probably all like to go eat."

Jeff waited behind with Free as everyone got up, ready to go inside and eat some food, whether they had something to say or not. "You okay?" Jeff asked, noticing Dr. Martinez walking over to them probably to do the same.

Free stood up and sniffed, wiping her eyes off in her hands, voice still a little shaky. "Yeah. Yeah I'm fine."

"Everything all right over here?" Dr. Martinez asked, inspecting both Jeff and Free. Jeff stayed silent, waiting for Free to let the doctor know she was fine. These bursts of emotion, letting it all out, were supposed to be good. Jeff felt as though she was already making a little progress at least.

When did he become so psychoanalytical or whatever fancy term these kooks used?