Rehab starter (open reply in messages)

The news of Demi Lovato’s over dose spread like wild fire, the reactions were very divided, many fans offered support for the singer in her troubled time, others laughed and said they’d wished she had died; Demi tried her best to ignore the hate, she knew what she did, and it was one of her biggest regrets to date. She spent the weekend in LA Hope Hospital, in detox, surrounded by friends, family, and even her former lover, Wilmer Valderrama. It was during this time that her mother relentlessly offered rehab, and at first Demi wasn’t open to it, she had already let her fans down, her family down, her friends down; and she felt rehab would only solidify that disappointment, but by Sunday and her release, she’d given in, she needed to get better and this was step one, realizing there is a problem and accepting help.

I Demi had two bags packed for the two month stay at ‘New Horizon’s Rehabilitation Center’ a nice facility in Northern Los Angeles with an ocean view, recreation center, and what Demi liked a lot, a music room, stocked with donated guitars, pianos, drum kits, and microphones; she might even get a head start on her new album while she’s here. The stay wouldn’t be cheap however, after a quarter million dollar drop on her bill, she had a room ready, a single bedroom, with white walls hidden behind a mural a sunset over a grassy plain which for some reason had both giraffes and pandas. The bed she found to be quite comfortable, similar to her bed at home, a twin memory foam mattress, with baby blue sheets and turquoise comforter (she was going to swap that out with new one). In her room also was a desk, where she already had planned to be a writing area, she was allowed fan mail, but it had to screened by her mother for negativity, only the positive ones would make to her. She had mixed feelings about the ordeal, but the staff seemed nice and she needed to break her addiction; after hugging her family goodbye, they all made a tearful departure, and Demi hadn’t felt so alone ever.

Demi and her mother had a rocky relationship since the debut of ‘Tell Me You Love Me’ as the music, though amazingly written and composed, had gone against everything that Demi stood for musically (according to her mother) and it only got worse with ‘Sober’ released only a few weeks before her over dose; but when she was in the hospital, it was her mother to whom she woke up to holding her hand. Demi was overcome with emotion, sorrow that she was alone in a new place, anger at herself for allowing her addiction to get this bad, happiness and hope at her possible future outcome, and depression, probably the most constricting of all; depressed that for the next two months it would been drilled into her head how bad she f***ed up, how her actions hurt the people who love her, essentially how bad of a person she is for it, and she was paying for the privilege.

She decided to find the music room, she needed to get her emotions out before she had her first mental breakdown in this prison. When she got there, she was relieved that it was empty, she didn’t want to be recognized right now, not when she was vulnerable. The room was lined with beautiful guitars, some brand new, some weathered and faded, some she recognized as donated by artists like her, it didn’t come to this facility, but Demi donated her acoustic guitar she had played in ‘Camp Rock’; in the corner of the room, she found it, a grand piano, walking over to it, she pressed a few keys in the order of the song ‘Welcome to the Black Parade’ the theme song to her late Disney days. Each key rang with beauty. Tears slowly running down her face, she sat down, only one song came to mind, the opening line repeating in her head; she started the intro, and softly to herself, she sang. “Hello darkness my old friend...” she continued at the vocal pause. “I’ve come to talk with you...again.” She continued. Oblivious to anything around her, the song continued.