This valuable network of rehabs serves disadvantaged and marginalized addicts around the country for (nearly) free. Beyonce's Cosmetology Center does its bit for national fashion—but the cuisine could use some work.

Eric Clapton's drug and alcohol rehab in Antigua is stunningly beautiful and strictly professional. The only problem is readjusting to reality once you're out.

Community ties are strong at this raucous Texas rehab, where residents bond quickly on the ropes course and over fried chicken and sweet tea.


After decades of treating dipsomaniac doctors, the staff at this Atlanta rehab is pretty sharp—and you no longer have to be an MD to get into "The Dome."

The spartan set-up of this massive Texas facility reflects a certain cowboy ethos, but its clients are more focused on twelve steps than two-steps. Exercise is oddly not part of the curriculum here, but residents receive a solid grounding in recovery and a valuable education in the basics of life.

This New Jersey boot-camp-cum-rehab demands long-term attendance and boasts a stellar success rate. But smoking, caffeine and phone calls are strictly banned.

The Watershed houses clients at two different locations, one a condo-like complex and the other a somewhat more institutional residence. Those who feel they got the raw end of the living-situation deal are consoled by experienced staff and ice-cream machines.

If you’re a depressed alcoholic and don’t mind cooking your own meals (or walking a mile to treatment sessions), this dual-diagnosis Florida rehab could be the one for you.

An isolated New Jersey outpost enveloped by acres of farmland, Seabrook House is run more with an iron fist than a firm hand. But alumni say that its lush landscaped gardens, fine food and top-tier treatment help soften the blow.

Mountainside's setting lives up to its name. And the usually youthful clients find that a sense of community and some enlightened counselors can compensate for food that's bad enough to write home about.