Today, like all other days, I woke up determined to make a difference and hoping that things would be different.

It’s been long since I penned a piece.The last time I wrote anything was two weeks ago and no, it wasn’t a creative piece. It was an assignment that was due on the morning of that day. I begged the lecturer to have mercy on me and she gladly extended the deadline to midnight of the same day.

True to my procrastination ways, I wrote it at the last minute and sent it to her at the 11th hour. The assignment was about ethical dilemmas in psychology. I wrote approximately 750 words. 60% came from my mind, 40% came from Google.

Other than the assignment, I haven’t really been able to overcome the blank page. Well, I could say that I’m not inspired because campus life is dull or, I could say, I’ve been “busy with school” that by the time I sit down to write I am completely mentally drained. Yes, these would easily qualify as reasons for my “blocks”. But, it’s not, and I sure as hell know it.

Rarely will a day end before I sit in front of my laptop with the intention of projecting my thoughts on paper. Usually, this happens in the evening. I fire up my laptop, open up my word document and, I wait. I wait for “it” to come to me. Unfortunately,  nine out of ten times, “it” doesn’t come to me. Nine out of ten times I don’t write.

When I actually write, I sometimes don’t end up getting to the 1000 words. Why? Because I keep looking at the damn word count!

You know, sometimes, you think you’ve written so much only to check your word count and realize you’ve only done 336 words (yes I just checked again).

Other times, I push myself to the limit and manage to grind out the 1000 words. The only problem is the 1000 words doesn’t always read like poetry. In fact, it rarely does, but when it does, I put it up here.

The truth is, the main reason I haven’t been able to write is fear. Anytime, I approach the blank page and think about the 1000 words I’ll need to fill it, I quit. I cower. I tuck my tail in between my legs.

Because I don’t want to admit this to myself, I rationalize my inadequacy to be as a result of lack of motivation.  And so, I turn up, in search of inspiration. But I never really find it. I usually just end up closing my word document and opening up my VLC player because let’s face it, that’s all one really wants to do when their lit, dab.

I’ll admit it, turning up does give me ideas; tonnes of them actually.  But, most of the time, I can’t hold on to a single trail of thought to completion or, worse yet, I can’t even remember what I was thinking about a second ago.

Anyway, enough about my turbulent writing journey. Today, I am posting because I just couldn’t let the month end without me having the last word. March is a very special month for me. Not only is it my birth month but also it is my blog anniversary.

I turned 23 on the 10th of March, while my blog turned 1 on the 17th. Much as my birthday and blog anniversary are big deals, my biggest highlight of this month took place yesterday(March 30, 2017).

Ever since I got into psychology I’ve always been yearning for the day we would go to a rehab center and yesterday (March 30,2017) my wish was granted.

Due to the confidentiality agreement we signed, I cannot divulge the details about where we went but I will tell you this, the excursion was 100 times better than sitting in class. Psychology classes suck balls!

The only shortcoming was that we didn’t get to see and meet the patients of the institution which would have been the icing on the cake. Personally, I’d hoped to look into the eyes of a schizophrenic patient or see the veins of cocaine/heroine patients but it wasn’t to be.

The rehabilitation centre did not deny us access to their patients. In fact, they had made the patients aware of our coming but the patients didn’t want to be seen by us for fear of recognition.

To any parent of a young child reading this, I’d encourage you to watch over your children with a hawk’s eye, especially as they get to puberty.

“The December holidays tends to be  peak season for us. We admit a lot of high school students who come straight from school and direct into the rehabilitation centre. Some of these kids are as young as fourteen years; maybe even younger. Parents nowadays are forced to lie about their childrens’ age in a desperate attempt of getting them help. ” The resident counselor told us.

Getting someone rehabilitated is damn expensive. The rehabilitation centre charges Ksh.2000 per day for 3 months which adds up to  Ksh.180000(minus medication).

Apparently, in the field of rehabilitation, the said centre’s charges aren’t even considered to be extravagant. If anything, Ksh.180000 for 3 months is a sweet deal. There are far more costly rehab centers in the country with others even charging up to  Ksh.900000 for 3 months (Ksh.10000 a day). Unfortunately, when it comes to rehabilitation treatment, you cannot pay using your insurance cover.

The 3 month period does not apply to all addiction cases mainly, alcohol, miraa and bhang. Cocaine and heroine patients have to spend a minimum of 6 months in rehab.

During the rehab period parents and guardians are discouraged to visit their loved one. Usually, parents/guardians are allowed to visit after one month of the client’s admission and a maximum of twice a month after that, with the visits being two weeks apart from each other.

Rehab doesn’t guarantee 100% recovery. Some patients still relapse and go back to their old habits more so, if their environment isn’t changed. But, ultimately, the choice to stay clean lies squarely on the addict’s shoulders.


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