Welcome to my non-fiction, erratic story from my time in an Anglicare rehabilitation centre that was actually some sort of cult or sect, complete with strict rules and an initiation ceremony… of sorts. Everything written within this story is based on scribblings I kept while I was there, as one of the mandatory rules was that we kept a nightly diary. Nearly five years later I am finally finishing what I started, as I not only think this is an entertaining story, but at the core of the story is hope, and if one person reads it and feels better about their own addiction, then I have done my job.
imperfection is perfection
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