Poems From Rehab. Celebrating 8 years!
This Saturday, April 26, 2025
I, Meg Johnston, am celebrating 8 years of recovery.
Grateful I had access to support and privileges like short-term disability and was able to attend The Orchard Recovery Center on Bowen Island, British Columbia.
Today I am incredibly proud to be 8 years sober. While recovery has had many incredibly difficult moments, I have had many incredible accomplishments. I talk a lot about my life today as a neuroqueer parent and entrepreneur, so this year I decided to celebrate in a new way. A couple months ago I came across my journal from during my 6 week stay at detox and rehab. Today I am sharing 2 of these poems with you.
Originally when I sat down to write the introduction for these poems I wrote a long overdue apology and thank you letter to my Step Dad Richard. I would not be in a position to be sharing these poems if it were not for him! Love you “Poppa”!
@their_collective If there was one thing I could tell the kids and parents that I see is this: these queer, trans, adhd, and autistic kids it’s this: “Your brightest days are still ahead of you. You can struggle, fight enormously large battles to exist every day and still be a good person. You are loved and worthy and whole.” Happy 24 to everyone participating in recovery today and every day! #wedorecover #sober #sobertiktok #mentalhealth #theircollective ♬ Beautiful Things - Benson Boone
Parts of Me.
I want to know
What you all think of me
Because I do not know
What I think of myself.
Who am I?
Please tell me. I do not know.
Why am I here?
I am not sure.
If you say something good,
I won’t believe you.
If you say something bad,
I will not disagree.
I tried so hard to be so many different Megans; daughter, sister,
friend, student, teammate, leader, girlfriend,
party-girl, comedian, nurse, and dead.
And I failed at them all.
If I cannot be all of these things, can they all be part of me?
I tried so hard to have so many different traits; caring, smart,
hard-working, devious, spontaneous, liar, funny, self-deafing,
brave, anxious, self aware, judgemental, and empathetic.
But it never lasted long.
If I cannot be all of these things, can they all be part of me?
Who am I? Do you know?
Who have I been?
Who should I be? Please tell me.
I do not know.
May 2017
The Pine Tree at Rehab
I’ve been watching
the large pine tree
outside my window the past
3 weeks.
The majority of last
season’s cones have
been raked up, bagged, and
hauled away.
But some
remain, scattered on the ground,
weathered,
and beaten from a cold winter.
Some of the aged cones
cling dearly to the tree
they have yet to be released
despite the spring season.
At first the new buds were
small and fragile - barely
visible through the needles
and large brown cones.
Brighter, stronger, and bolder
each day; they have taken over.
The pine trees'
only job is to grow new seeds.
And now every evening
I have to search harder to spot whatever
few dull dark cones
remain.
May 2017
