Pubdate: Sat, 16 Aug 2003 Source: Guelph Mercury (CN ON) Copyright: 2003 Guelph Mercury Newspapers Limited Contact: http://www.guelphmercury.com/ Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/1418 Author: Joanne Shuttleworth TURNING THEIR LIVES AROUND As much as she's excited to see her son again and move back to the 'real' world, Lauren Dick is also afraid. Couched within the safety of the Stonehenge Therapeutic Community, with a structured programme to fill her day and emotional support from staff and fellow residents, the 37-year-old Scarborough woman knows that here she can put her 22-year cocaine addiction behind her. But out there? "I'm very scared. I know the stats for relapse are very high and I know that no matter how clean I am in here, the real test is out there. "But I have good supports and I'm working on recognizing the things that are triggers for me. And Stonehenge has given me some tools to cope. Hopefully I'll use those tools when I get stressed and not fall back on drugs," she said. Self-help groups like Narcotics Anonymous can be enough for some drug users to kick the habit. Others benefit from 30-day programmes like those offered at the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health in Toronto and the Homewood Health Centre in Guelph. Then there are those who need intense and long-term counselling to change their lives around. "You have to match the right person with the right treatment programme and find the one that works," said Stonehenge executive director Heather Kerr. "Our clients are serious addicts with chronic drug problems and almost all have tried other programmes before coming here. We're the last stop for many of them." The therapeutic community model of treatment was very popular in the 1970's both in Europe and in North America, when Guelph psychiatrist Dr. John M. Dougan decided Guelph needed one, too. Dougan was chief of psychiatry at the Guelph Community Psychiatric Hospital, now the Homewood, and he worked to first build a board of directors, then build some funding and finally build a place where addicts could live, work, and undergo therapy. The goal for these troubled, chronic users, is to change the lifestyle that supports the habit and to understand why they turned to drugs in the first place. Residents at Stonehenge prepare all meals, clean, do laundry and maintain the grounds in a day that begins with morning exercise and includes group and individual counselling. There's reading, homework, art therapy and anger management sessions. There are also visits with family and weekends away as residents progress through the phases of the programme. Dick came to Stonehenge in March and said she was suicidal at the time. She was 15 when she did her first line of coke on the mirror of a Harley Davidson, she said -- a dramatic beginning to a dangerous path of bikers, crime, stripping and a series of violent relationships with men. Although she voluntarily sought treatment at Stonehenge, "I still walked in fighting," she said. "All the rules sucked, the people sucked, and more than anything, I believed that I sucked too. "After years of being the biggest liar and the biggest secret-keeper -- that is how addicts exist after all, lies and secrets -- I had to surrender myself to this place. I felt like I was thrown in the water with no life jacket. I had to adopt a blind faith. As I learned to trust other people, I learned to trust myself as well." Stonehenge opened in 1971 in Guelph, moved to larger property in Belwood and then in 1981 a stone home on Hwy. 24 between Guelph and Cambridge was purchased. The old stone house is now called Dougan House. A more modern Viceroy home was built next door in 1989 and although Stonehenge has always been co-ed, this year a third location exclusively for women opened in Guelph. Clients at Stonehenge may stay up to six months and attend weekly outreach sessions for up to two years. At first blush the rolling grounds, majestic stone buildings and the rural atmosphere can lull the observer into believing Stonehenge is more retreat than treatment centre. "We hear that a lot," said Kerr, "but believe me, a lot of work goes on here. Really hard work. It's no picnic." The Hwy. 24 site can accommodate up to 34 clients -- about half come through provincial and federal correctional services and the others through medical referrals. The women's facility can take eight to 10 women and as the programme gets established, Kerr said Stonehenge hopes to accommodate the children of its female clients. The Ministry of Health, the Ministry of Public Safety and Security, and Corrections Canada pay the lion's share of Stonehenge's $1.4- million annual budget. "It's so much better for the women being here," said Dick of the women's centre. "Most if not all of the women have issues about men they need to work out. And many of the men have power and control issues with women. You see the new women gravitate to the men and vice versa. Old habits are hard to shake." Kerr said new research shows that men and women need different treatment programmes and that the fear of losing their children often keeps mothers and pregnant women from seeking help. Yvette Prince was two-weeks clean but very close to delivering her second child when she arrived at Stonehenge. In fact, she had her baby, a girl, the very day after being admitted. "I fought it. I didn't want to face what I had to face and I was really afraid they would take my daughter. I felt guilt, shame and low self esteem," Prince said. Prince, 34, was bubbling with anticipation last Friday, anxiously awaiting the arrival of her daughter. She sees her three times a week and while it's not as often as she'd like, mother and baby are beginning to bond. Her eyes soften and her face beams with pride as she holds her baby. "She knows who I am and she responds to me. And she's learned how to smile," she said, turning the bundle in her arms for all to admire. " I'm here for me, but I'm here for her too. I have to set an example." There is an air of summer camp at the centre, especially at the recognition lunch held every Friday. As the residents and staff cram into the dining room to eat together, there's good-natured teasing and plenty of laughter. But there's a serious side to the lunch. Some residents are 'graduating' from the programme and have mixed emotions about leaving. Some have gained ground during group sessions in the week and are honoured for their accomplishments. The speeches are touching, the gratitude of the residents is heartfelt, and the bond among the group is tight. "It's very intense and very intimate," said Johnny Fung, 33, who came to Stonehenge three months ago after trying short-term rehabilitation programmes in Toronto. "There are things I had never shared with anyone that I've shared with this group. You really have to come clean -- first with other people but in the end, you have to be honest with yourself. "That's what's happening here and it's amazing to me. I'm starting to like the man I see in the mirror."