alcoholics anonymous

WTF do you mean “I’m at fault”?

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In the midst of a (friendly on my part) debate about the step program, I was asked:

“How is saying ‘we’re invariably at fault’ not psychological abuse?”

And, to be honest, I had to pause for a moment.

And see if that was even something I wanted to defend.

Because, for me, the step program’s been super helpful as far as serving (in part) as a basis for my recovery. That said, I don’t accept all of it. And that’s fine with me. My recovery’s mine and it’s been working beautifully for years. (Even in the midst of 2016 prematurely winning the “worse-year-since-benzo-detox” award). So, after thinking about it, I admitted to my sorta sardonic conversationalist, “Yeah, I can see how that sounds kinda callous.” I mean, after all, we have genetic tendencies, some of us. Or the emotional turmoil led us there.

So, yeah.

What’s happened to you? Not your fault.

But, when you think about it, is it really abusive for you or I to accept accountability for any of our adult behavior? Now, I mean? Shouldn’t we accept it? I’m not a drug puppet. No one’s pulling my strings unless I let them. I mean, sure, my emotional response to past events or people induced a feeling where I thereafter wanted to use. Absolutely. But if that bad stuff already happened – it’s over; it’s not happening now. So, why keep using it as an excuse to use now? What’s that do? What does blaming my parents, rapist, society, anything – on my bad habits do for me now? Does it change what happened to me? Not so far. Does polluting my flesh vessel with chemicals? Nope. Does either fix what happened to me? Not as of yet.

And how about the “genetic” defense?

Well, if I know that’s a tendency, I should’ve kinda known better than to pick up. Even if it’s “not fair” that everyone else is normal and can manage their elixirs, there’s no appeal system to reality. You must just accept it or suffer. And how about if I didn’t know I had a hereditary tendency? Then it was still my choice to say, “Heh. Look at that. I can’t seem to manage my libations the way my buddies do. Buuut it takes my mind off my mind. And it’s easier than seeking help. So, even though I’ve punched a dude in the face and been invited to spend the evening with the law authorities… I’mma keep drinking anyway.” There’s no shame in accepting that accountability. In fact, there’s freedom in it. Freedom from the prison of old thinking that doesn’t serve me. It allows me to move on and reinforce how important it is not to carry on like that any longer. No matter how naturally it comes. I must learn another way to be.


(Don’t leave it *or* hide in that mug, buddy.
Hit the recovery dojo, train your brain biceps, cut some “victimhood” weight, get back in the reality ring, and… beat that motherfluffer *back*.)

It’s also a reminder that I can’t alter reality – or the past.

All I can alter is my own behavior.

Now.

Right now, I can choose not to employ something that’s the opposite of a solution. I can choose to in lieu seek guidance, self-help, whatever I need – even if it’s not in a step program. Noggin numbing doesn’t fix historical issues that continue accosting our subconscious minds. Seeking a reality based solution does. (Again, even if it’s not a step program.) When I don’t choose that – that’s my fault. And so is all of the subsequent behavior that goes along with the altered mindset that follows that choice. Rage episodes. Neglected relationships. Late arrivals to work. Nasty moods. That’s on me, my dude. Which means that the only “psychological abuse” I’ve suffered since my choice to pick up is of the self inflicted variety.

AKA a cognitive cocktail called “denial with a spritz of buck-passing”.

And that’s a drink even folks with lotsa clean time still hafta put down daily.

Moderation Management: Like AA, except less sober.

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One of my favorite scenes in “Arthur” was his initial incognito AA visit.

“I’m here because I’d like to drink less…” he says to the group.

Although (much like the majestic man playing him) Arthur would come to realize “less” wasn’t sufficient, some people do. This was a tough concept for me to comprehend initially. Could some alcoholics cut back? Did that make them not-really-alcoholics? And – more importantly – how do you know? I suppose it’s a trial and error thing. When you come right down to it, terms like “alcoholic” and “addict” are just words. You could call yourself a “compulsive pornography enthusiast”, but if you’re doing it till you’re power gets cut and you lose your job, guess what? You’re a smut junkie. So the answer is to do some deep introspection and see for yourself by applying your theory to reality. You try to cut back, and you either do alright or fall back into old habits. But what if the latter happens? Does that mean you can’t manage it – and must abstain? Maybe. Or maybe you just need the ears of others who’ve got the same proclivity. This is what Moderation Management (cute in it’s double abbreviation, like AA) seeks to do. Much like the abstinence based programs, they don’t seek dues or fees, they let people share, have a few steps of their own for you to follow, and encourage helping one another. Unlike abstinence based programs, however, there’s none of the – ya know – abstinence. Instead, they suggest toning down the imbibing to mayhaps three or four times a week. Per their site:

Moderation Management (MM) is a behavioral change program and national support group network for people concerned about their drinking and who desire to make positive lifestyle changes. MM empowers individuals to accept personal responsibility for choosing and maintaining their own path, whether moderation or abstinence. MM promotes early self-recognition of risky drinking behavior, when moderate drinking is a more easily achievable goal. MM is run by lay members who came to the organization to resolve personal issues and stayed to help others.

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I like the way he puts this – for all you know, you may realize you’re not an alcoholic or addict after all and find exactly what you need in MM. In argument on behalf of those 12 step meetings, though, I will say that you’re never prescribed a lifetime of anything. You come to realize that all you’ve got when it comes to decision making is ahora. The present. Right now. That’s where the whole “one day at a time” thing comes in.

So, I remain open-minded about it. (It’s part of my program to be, so I don’t have a choice.) That is, I’m open-minded to the idea that it might work really well for some. (Tough for me to concede, since I tend to be self centered and assume my way’s the only way.) In fact, there’re copious testimonials about how the tools MM offers seem to work well. Honestly, it might even work for someone like me. It might. But I know from a historical review that I personally might as well load one bullet in a chamber, press it to my temple, and try to fire away along with my firewater. That might seem dramatic – and it is. The disparity between my mindset above versus under the influence of anything mind altering is indeed nada short of dramatic. But that doesn’t mean it won’t work for you, if you’re realizing you’re having a few issues moderating but can’t conceive of a life sans booze. All of it rests on whether – once you get honest with yourself – you identify as someone who has enough of a challenge moderating that you shouldn’t drink altogether. And you know what? You don’t have to decide that alone. I say, if you’re struggling, try out either group. Because the most important thing isn’t just about whether you’re mostly sober or totally abstinent, but what’s driving you to carry on as you are. And the crucial thing – when you’ve got a compulsion adversely affecting your life – is to get out there and talk to others who “get it”, have been there, and can possibly help you realize just what caliber of liquor swigger you are. Who knows. Maybe MM’s exactly where you need to be.

Or maybe, like Arthur, you’ll realize it’s time to tweak your formerly blithe view on this vice and try the other fellowship.


(#WrongMovie #SimilarEnoughStoryline)

But the first step of any program isn’t written on the opening literature.

The first step’s attending any meeting at all.

So mayhaps start there.

Are step programs a cure or a cult?

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So, you’ve chosen a step program as part of your new way of living.

And suddenly everyone (who’s never been in a program themselves) has a snide opinion about it.

It’s hard enough voluntarily initiating a quest to renovate your mind, body, and soul by ripping the scabs off every wound you’ve been anesthetizing for so long. That’s challenging in and of itself. But the cherry on top of this self-eviscerating sundae? When you realize that some around you have their own opinions about such programs. I myself, while giving meetings a try, found that among those I opened up to – there were at least a couple (out of three) who managed to teleport a passive aggressive eye-roll at me via tone of text (an impressive, but not impossible feat sans any actual emoji). And why? Well, the general consensus I was getting was that it was just another addiction – and a cult. Now, while concepts counter to the literature are generally frowned upon in the rooms, I remain open-minded (which actually the first step itself encourages). Also, as a woman of science, I question everything. Even if it’s quietly on my own. Are step meetings just another addiction? A crutch? Is it just a cult? Yes, I wondered this even before my “friends” chimed in with their two cents about coins for clean time.

So, let’s start with the first one by considering what we’re even talking about: a program.

Whether or not you realize (or like it), we all live according to some basic programming. The things you like, say, and do by rote are often part of your programming. For some, their program is a basic 9 to 5, sandwiched between Starbucks, carbon monoxide infused commutes, and caring for a family. For some, it’s the getting and using of mind altering chemicals, sandwiched between fleeting reprieves from misery and the insane belief that you’re carrying out a sustainable way of living. Whatever your general ritual is – is your programming. So what if you’re that latter junkie or drunkie, trying to sober up, and not sure how to cope with life? The only way to truly change someone like this – who’s clearly sad enough at their nougaty center if they’re willing to self-destruct slowly in order to avoid pain – is compassion, empathy, and – most importantly – a shiny new program to replace the god-awful one you’ve been trying to get by with on your own.

This is what a step program offers. You meet with others who can identify to vent about the bad stuff and share the good. You do the steps and practice the principles in order to learn a better way to get by. So why isn’t just a year or so enough? Why do people keep returning? I suppose it’s because the longer you’ve been addicted to something, the harder it is to prevent it from surfacing up over your favorable “replaced” habit. Also, we always need a support system of like-minded folk, and some people can’t find that outside the rooms. Plus, in a world full of distractions and where people marvel at you for staying sober (or don’t even invite you out at all ‘cause you’re a “nondrinker” and thus tantamount to a sideshow oddity), it can be kinda helpful to have a constant reminder of why you chose this route in the first place. Not everyone needs that; but if you do, you don’t have to consider meetings a crutch anymore than weekly mass for Christians is. The only difference is – the program is spiritual – not religious. That is to say, there’s no deity at the center.

Which leads us to the next question: is it a cult?

Well, how about you and Webster decide. Here’s just one definition for “cult”:

“A system of religious veneration and devotion directed toward a particular figure or object.”

(Ah, not so much. Not a religion. Let’s try another.)

“A misplaced or excessive admiration for a particular person or thing.”

(Not quite. They are pretty focused on abstinence, but I wouldn’t call it admiration. Next?)

“A relatively small group of people having religious beliefs or practices regarded by others as strange or sinister.”

Ah! There we go. I knew we’d hit on something that awkwardly fit, eventually.

So, yeah, maybe the step programs are cult-like in the sub-article, second bullet definition sense of the word. Even though there’s no Hubbard-esque leader at our center, it technically fits because there are “others” (as my pontificating pals – and maybe a few of yours – have demonstrated) who consider it “strange”. (Mostly because they don’t get it, have never attended, and – above all – have likely never been addicts themselves; so I wouldn’t expect them to). But while we’re at it, we might as well say all of American culture is a cult – that is, to any “others” who don’t live here and find Western practices horrifying. It’s too general a definition. So much can fit in there. But, in the end, it’s all just words. Crutch. Cult. If it works for you so that you don’t go back to living at the bottom of a vodka or oxy bottle, who cares what they call it? Who cares what they think, for that matter? If you’re in it for the same reasons as most folk I know, it ain’t about a popular opinion poll – but a matter of your life. Or death.

So, if you like, go ahead. Put the recovering addicts in that bucket.

Just don’t expect the kool-aid at the meetings to be nearly as fun as Jim Jones’.

Or Jesus’ for that matter.

Moderation Management: Like AA, except less sober

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One of my favorite scenes in “Arthur” was his initial incognito AA visit.

“I’m here because I’d like to drink less…” he says to the group.

Although (much like the majestic man playing him) Arthur would come to realize “less” wasn’t sufficient, for some, it is. This was a tough concept for me to comprehend initially. Could some alcoholics cut back? Did that make them not-really-alcoholics? And – more importantly – how do you know? I suppose it’s a trial and error thing. When you come right down to it, terms like “alcoholic” and “addict” are just words. You could call yourself a “compulsive pornography enthusiast”, but if your hitting the faptop till your power gets cut and you lose your job, then guess what, my friend? You’re a smut junkie. Same goes for any obsession. So, one might suggest some deep introspection about it and applying your theory to reality. You try to cut back, and you either do alright or fall back into old habits. But what if the latter happens? Does that mean you can’t manage it – and must abstain? Maybe. Or maybe you just need the ears of others who’ve got the same proclivity. This is what Moderation Management (cute in it’s double abbreviation, like AA) seeks to do. Much like the abstinence based programs, they don’t seek dues or fees, they let people share, have a steps of their own (about nine, I believe) for you to follow, and encourage helping one another. Unlike abstinence based programs, however, there’s none of the – ya know – abstinence. Instead, they suggest toning down the imbibing to mayhaps three or four times a week. And if you wanna abstain, then you can do that too. Per their site:

Moderation Management (MM) is a behavioral change program and national support group network for people concerned about their drinking and who desire to make positive lifestyle changes. MM empowers individuals to accept personal responsibility for choosing and maintaining their own path, whether moderation or abstinence. MM promotes early self-recognition of risky drinking behavior, when moderate drinking is a more easily achievable goal. MM is run by lay members who came to the organization to resolve personal issues and stayed to help others.

I like the way he puts this – for all you know, you may realize you’re not an alcoholic or addict after all and find exactly what you need by learning how to cut back. In argument on behalf of those 12 step meetings, though, I will say that you’re never prescribed a lifetime of anything. You come to realize that all you’ve got when it comes to decision making is ahora. The present. Right now. That’s where the whole “one day at a time” thing comes in.

So, I remain open-minded about it. (It’s part of my program to be, so I don’t have a choice.) That is, I’m open-minded to the idea that moderating might work really well for some. In fact, there’re copious testimonials about how the tools MM offers seem to work well. Honestly, it might even work for someone like me. It might. But I know from a historical review that I personally might as well load one bullet in a chamber, press it to my temple, and try to fire away along with my firewater. That might seem dramatic – and it is. The disparity between my mindset above versus under the influence of anything mind altering is indeed nada short of dramatic. But that doesn’t mean it won’t work for you, if you’re realizing you’re having a few issues moderating but can’t conceive of a life sans booze. All of it rests on whether – once you get honest with yourself – you identify as someone who has enough of a challenge moderating that you shouldn’t drink altogether. And you know what? You don’t have to decide that alone. I say, if you’re struggling, try out either group. Because the most important thing isn’t just about whether you’re mostly sober or totally abstinent, but what’s driving you to carry on as you are. And the crucial thing – when you’ve got a compulsion adversely affecting your life – is to get out there and talk to others who “get it”, have been there, and can possibly help you realize just what caliber of liquor swigger you are. Who knows. Maybe cutting back will be enough.

Or maybe, like Arthur, you’ll see it’s time to get serious about your formerly blithe view on this vice.


(#WrongMovie #SimilarEnoughStoryline)

But the first step of any program isn’t listed in the twelve or nine.

The first step’s attending any kind of group. At all.