April 6, 2017
This blog is a collection of the thoughts preoccupying my mind right now. It rambles a little and I want to warn any potential readers in advance.
I started this blog in order to live my life more out in the open and with the hope that, by sharing my stories in an unfiltered way, I could somehow make other people feel better about the fact that, like me, their lives may not look or be perfect. Oftentimes on social media, I am tempted to post about only the great parts of my life. And, honestly, even though I have on multiple occasions resolved to reflect a more complete picture of my life online, I still find myself sharing primarily the shiny parts of my life. Displaying the complete picture in some ways feels so unnatural. Posting a photo of myself with great hair on Facebook is far more intuitive than posting a picture of myself the day I get my period, i.e., when I have a face full of zits and am as bloated as a whale.
To be clear, though, I actually believe that it is totally fine for other people to share only the highlight reels on social media and I certainly don’t judge those who do. I just think it’s not a good thing for me, personally, to do. This is because I know how I feel when I see nothing but perfection on Facebook or other social media sites. I compare myself to other seemingly perfect people and I feel like a giant loser because, rather than being surrounded by a posse of girlfriends on a tropical island, I’m sitting on the couch with my best friend, who is a cat, and it’s a Saturday night and I’m dicking off online. When it comes to comparing my life to the way others’ lives look online, I always come up short. And, after said comparing, I feel bad about myself. And this feeling bad is the inevitable outcome – even though I genuinely like my life and don’t actually want to be surrounded by a posse of girlfriends on a tropical island.
In order to create a space where I could be honest and live authentically, I started this blog. Writing this blog has revealed to me that, clearly, I have some issues with putting my authentic self out there. Truthfully, I have never posted a blog entry without having a tremendous sense of panic afterwards about whether I am going to sound or look ridiculous. But, ideally, I would really like to overcome these issues and that’s why I keep writing. I want to live a life where I believe in and really like myself. It seems like it would be a massive shame to go through all of my life disliking or doubting my whole being. I don’t think life has to be that way. I also know that my ability to love myself is directly proportional to my ability to care for and love others. And I want to be a person who can love as many people as possible.
I also want to be someone who is not afraid to be vulnerable. The people I admire the most are those who are unafraid when it comes to showing the world their flaws. Now, I am not saying I want to be someone who wags my flaws in other people’s faces or that I feel the need to let you all know anytime I almost accidentally shit my pants. But, if someone asks me how I am doing, I want to be able to answer truthfully without feeling the need to apologize for myself. More importantly, I strive to be vulnerable on this blog because I believe that the more vulnerable and real I am, the greater the chance there is that my blog will provide comfort to someone else who is similarly situated to me.
In order to be truly vulnerable on this blog, I recently realized I needed to share more than funny anecdotes. I need to share my major and real-time struggles, too. And, the way I know something in my life is share-worthy is if it is something that I am incredibly tempted to hide from other people. Secrets and living in hiding will consume me and be the death of my happiness. The only way I know how to overcome the allure of keeping secrets and living in hiding is to purposefully live way out loud. So, it occurred to me that I should be sharing some of my daily struggles and triumphs as part of my blogging efforts, also.
With that in mind (my little pep talk to myself and my preface for any potential readers out there who will see the following), I will actually discuss something I am struggling with. This week I decided that I need some therapy and today I found a counselor who I believe will be amazing. And the reason I need to get back into therapy (yes, I’ve already had lots of therapy) is this: a few years ago I made a life-changing decision that I feel is a little controversial in some circles and that has haunted me. After 13 years of incredibly faithful attendance and devotion, I left Alcoholics Anonymous.
My decision to leave AA has been my dirty little secret for a few years now. While I made the decision very consciously and after a tremendous amount of thought and reflection, it was the scariest decision I have ever made. The reason this decision was so terrifying is because, if you are in AA, you know that AA teaches you that you can never leave, that you never get better, and that you are forever sick and need meetings for the rest of your life in order to survive. In short, leaving is heretical.
But I left AA for reasons that I believe are tremendously important.
After years of immersion in the AA program, I could no longer stomach some of the negative self-images I had to internalize in order to continue on in the program. It was my experience that in order to “work” a “good” AA program (and achieve approval and acceptance from others in AA), I had to wholeheartedly believe that, at my core, I was somewhat rotten and flawed. I was taught that I was an alcoholic first and foremost, that I was far more deviant than normal people, that I was sick and forever would be sick, and that, left to my own devices, I was completely incapable of living a life where I didn’t fuck everything up and burn everything down.
For me, I can’t live believing those things or have those kinds of ideas reinforced in my brain on a regular basis anymore. I also cannot live believing that, if I leave AA or stop going to meetings, I will die or end up in a mental institution (something else I routinely heard in AA). Furthermore, I cannot sit there day after day and relive my past. Additionally, I cannot live a happy fulfilling life if I am constantly cutting myself down. Finally, I cannot live my life fearlessly if I am constantly doubting every move I make or assuming all of my instincts are “sick.”
To be honest, I would actually rather be dead than live a life where I have to believe the ideas listed above. And, if I wanted to continue on in AA, I pretty much had to adopt all or at least some of this thinking. While my experience may not be reflective of everyone’s experience with AA, it does not negate the fact that was very much my experience for 13 years. I am not here to debate the virtues or dangers of AA. I am here to share my experience and my story. I truly hope that other people have a better experience with AA than I did.
But, here’s the tricky part. Even though I feel like leaving AA was a very good decision for me, I am struggling with my decision to leave. For 13 years, I was told that people who stop going to AA meetings end up in one of three places – jails, institutions, or a graveyard. After years of being told that my thoughts are always wrong, sick, or demented and that my instincts are terribly off and harmful to others, it is hard to trust myself and believe that I actually can make a decent choice. And my self-doubts around this issue haunt me even though every time I think of going back to AA, all I hear is “the benefits are not worth the cost of admission Julie.” Unfortunately though, when something has been hammered into me for 13 years, it doesn’t just go away – no matter how strong my intuition is.
It is a really hard decision to leave AA. And it has been very hard to let go of some of the things AA taught me – even though many of these things never really felt true in the first place. I wanted to share my experience with leaving AA on here because it is a big deal in my life right now and because, maybe, there is another girl out there who is going through the same things that I am going through, but who feels like she is alone. Sharing that I am struggling with letting go of some of the negative thinking I learned in AA is my effort to put forth an accurate and whole picture of my life on this blog. Furthermore, these days I’m on a path toward accepting and really believing in myself. To achieve this, I have to face my inner demons regarding my decision to leave AA. Blogging about this issue is one way to move forward for me. And, honestly, I may have to blog about this again in the future. As always, though, thank you so much for reading.
<3 – Julie
Michael Geer
Thanks for sharing! What I’ve learned in my life is nothing is absolute or black and white. I think it is quite normal for things to be absolutely necessary or greatly positive at certain times in our life (different relationships or jobs for example) and not needed anymore at other times. The trick is to build in a few safeties that can always help you right the ship if you go too far off a healthy course. If you feel you still have those, then you should be just fine.
Ann
Hey ! Just a little back up for your decision. When I trained and worked at the rehab in Florida– AA wasn’t the only way. Learning your triggers, dealing with shit and basically learning to live a life of forgiveness, surrounding oneself with good, solid people and environment and sobriety was the key… only you are responsible– and now that you have made this very scary decision I commend you for finding someone that can assist you with finding your happy sober pathway…you are brave and Smart and oh so funny…e.g. halfway house blogs..keep on going…ann
T
Thank you for putting out there how I often feel. After almost 11 years, I continue to go to meetings, but I have to be careful in my selection because certain people, places, and things can trigger the shame and feelings of being judged or “not doing enough” or “not saying the right thing.” AA saved my butt, and I will always be grateful for what the program and some of the people taught me. But, I will no longer abide by, nor be a part of the contingent that inadvertently shames people who are not doing AA the way they “should.” And, I have to remind myself, like you have mentioned, that this the experience of others, and that this is my experience too, and what works for some, doesn’t work for me and vice versa. That’s why I love the adage “take what you like and leave the rest.” There are many paths to recovery and the idea that AA is the only path can be arrogant and harmful. Thanks again for keeping it real!
The Source
AA works as either a lifetime commitment or a stepping stone. In your experience, it would seem to be the latter. That’s OK. You have free choice to either attend or not. What you don’t want is a return to whatever it was that drove you to seek assistance initially. Only you have the power to prevent yourself from returning to the abyss that attempted to consume your life before you sought help. You are taking positive steps toward that prevention. Quitting AA for you was a positive step–you found the organization’s message no longer resonated with you and was, in fact, detrimental. There is more than one way to skin a cat (apologies to yours), and you have chosen a different vehicle to seek personal understanding and health.
Don Feliz
Thank you! I’m at the 25 year mark, and I’m down to one meeting a week because there’s a really nice friend who goes to that meeting, and they have good cookies. Other than that, I’m done with the absolutely whining insanity of many members, some of whom have years of “sobriety” but can’t hold a decent conversation, or run away when you don’t tow the party line. One guy who I met recently at a meeting literally screamed at me because I mispronounced his name ever so slightly, and then pushed my hand away when I tried to apologize for this innocuous mistake. He was the straw on the camel’s back, as I’ve had literally dozens of crazy interactions with some not-so-sane people. They really do mean it when they say AA is “not a hotbead of mental health” (it sure isn’t), and after a hard-day’s work I really don’t feel like going into dingy rooms with some insane people. I think next week’s meeting will be my last.