Should You Quit Going To AA Meetings? You Can Recover Without AA. And Life Is Better.

Within the first four articles I wrote, three explained how to get through the first three phases of alcoholic recovery. The five day acute initial withdrawal, the second phase that usually lasts to the thirty to forty-five day mark and then the road to six months sobriety. And it is at about that six month mark when you seem to be an entirely different person from that prior lush who spent his days either heavily intoxicated or recovering from it with daily withdrawals.

I do still remember the life of an alcoholic, although it seems like a play that was written not only on a different stage from where my life is now, but was performed on an entirely different planet. I never was a day drinker during work, at least I can say that to my credit. But it was nightly, in huge abundance and for years. During my thirteen year partnership with John Barleycorn, the last five progressed from the moderate level alcoholic to the late stage. In the final years, I was putting away twelve to fifteen bottles of hops a night.

In the mornings, during the final phase of my addiction, I would wake with vertigo and light nausea. Breakfast was never a thought, the hangover was overcome by Gatorade and several cups of coffee. I still recall feeling the vertigo that lasted through the morning on the elevators in the hospitals I worked. Later, I would have half a lunch and then fight the lethargy through the afternoon until I punched out on the way to the liquor store to do it all over again.

THE SMALL BOOK: HOW I BEAT ALCOHOLISM AND WHY ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS DOESN'T WORK

Weekends, during that final year, were nothing but continuous drinking, usually two cases killed by Sunday night. There were many times I felt tiny needles in my liver and kidneys in those late years of the addiction. I would drink until I passed out Friday night, start again when I awoke, four to five hours later, and pass out again the following afternoon. Drink, pass out, wake with dry heaving and repeat until the alarm on Monday morning. That was my weekend those last days of alcoholism.

As I said in the previous articles, I went through the first three phases of recovery alone. And continued on my solo trip to the two year mark where I say you can declare cure from the addiction. Because your neuro chemistry has completely rebalanced at this point. Don’t be fooled, you can reignite the addiction if for some reason you find it a brilliant idea to contact John Barleycorn again. But the two year mark was when I started saying: I used to be an alcoholic. But I’m not anymore.

There was a point at the eleven month mark of sobriety when I went to two AA meetings. Two meetings in two weeks at two different locations. I wanted to see if there was anything that the program had to offer. It’s true I was already a different person who couldn’t believe I lived as I just described. But I still had episodic periods of emotional upheaval, periodic panic attacks and some cravings. None of these symptoms were nearly in magnitude as the beginning of recovery. But they were still there. But more than anything, I felt suddenly I was living in a world in which I wasn’t familiar. I seemed detached from people, agoraphobic at times with on and off depression. These symptoms are very normal until one reaches that two year mark.

My brother had a long history with Alcoholics Anonymous from his former alcohol addiction as well. He is twenty years clean. He left AA well over fifteen years ago. He had described their cult-like mentality, very low success rate and rigid doctrine pontificated from members and sponsors who screamed if you ever walked out of their doors, you were doomed to relapse.

And this was certainly true in my two meetings. The senior members and sponsors had been in AA for ten to twenty years. They generally came to meetings five to six nights a week. I really couldn’t believe it. For I still had episodic symptoms of the protracted withdrawal stage that lasts to the end of those two years and seemed to be doing far better than those I saw sitting in the circle. I couldn’t fathom why they kept coming with such frequency. Their protracted withdrawal had ended years ago, for some of them, decades ago. Their physiology should have been operating completely normal by now.

Then I noticed their new habits developed in “the rooms.” They constantly injected sugar and caffeine into their systems. They rushed outside at every interlude to burn two cigarettes. None of them were on an exercise program. Many, with years of sobriety, were a reflection of myself in my first few months of withdrawal, exhibiting jitteriness and unrest.  

Then came story time. One by one in the circle people rehashed how terrible their lives were under the severe influence of good buddy, J.B. And I’ve stated that this could be a healthy tool in the beginning of recovery. But again, the senior people were years and decades clean. It was very apparent they were living in the past, a dark Groundhog Day, awakened every night when they walked through the doors.

One story caught my attention. There was a man, about thirty, who told of his experience of going to a party with friends the night before. He stated the day of the event, he woke up, fell to his knees and chanted the Serenity Prayer. Then he went to an afternoon meeting before the party. He went to the party later for a few hours. Then he came back and went to another meeting. After which he called his sponsor. He finished the night with another rendition of the prayer.

This man was two years clean.

Now as I stated, I was very reclusive that first two years of sobriety. But before that AA meeting, I also went to a party at a clinic owner’s house. My experience wasn’t nearly this dramatic. My new drink was a soda water with two limes. I would look at the bottles of beer and feel cravings, yes, but they were mild. I had eleven months of sobriety. I had withstood the early stages of recovery, which included continuous and intense cravings most of the time. But now the mild ones would come, last an hour and pass. The party wasn’t nearly the big deal as this young man’s because I didn’t make it a big deal. The fact that he would have to go to two meetings, call a sponsor and spend the day in an almost panic state about a social event at two years clean is simply ridiculous.

Then in my mentioned item of note was the people in “the rooms” were not people who owned internal tranquility. That was obvious on their faces. I expected that from the newer members to sobriety but not the ones with years distant from Mr. Barleycorn. It was like the cookies and coffee were life jackets they clung to in order not to disappear under the water. They lived in this constant dwelling of this ghost life of the past. I saw nothing mentally healthy about these meetings for the people who were past those initial stages of recovery.

The other thing I noted was how AA had become the senior members’ entire lives. The long sober were now sponsors. They belonged to regional and national committees. One told me how his recovery led to his divorce. For his poor spouse no longer had anything in common with him. He was at AA almost every night. He couldn’t go on a weekend trip unless “the rooms” were nearby. He went to national conventions without his wife as why would she go? She wasn’t the alcoholic in the past. But all must be sacrificed for sobriety, isn’t that right, AA? What a toxic mindset.

And that is my point. You don’t have to sacrifice anything or anyone for sobriety, minus your ended friendship with John Barleycorn. The recovery, once you pass the two year mark, should be one of continued enhancement in every aspect of your life. You are the dead reawakened. The world is now a different place. You look through clear eyes, not the haze of your former addiction. And it doesn’t even take until the full two years to gain a better existence in all of your planes. The emotional symptoms will still be episodic until then, but you are recovering more and more with every passing week and month.

By month eleven, when I was sitting in those two meetings, I would have noted to the group that I did have these emotional frantic episodes at times. But I also had many periods of peace. Sure, I realized all the stupid things that occurred in my life due to my association with good old Mr. B. Of course, I recalled face planting in the afternoon on the street one fine day in Bavaria as I stumbled home from the bar. And trying to explain the knot on my forehead the next day. The chaotic relationships, one night hops induced stands. But I wasn’t going to dwell on it every night. When you’re an alcoholic, you hang around other alcoholics. Which creates a merry go round of never ending drama and chaos. You don’t have to keep reliving it over and over.

And now at sixteen years sober, I think about those who told me they had a decade or two of sobriety and were still sitting in the rooms. At year five, I was sitting in a coffee shop, finishing the first draft of my guidebook to recovery. A twelve step reference was sitting on the table as well. A woman, who was a tribe member of AA, saw it and walked over. Ah, she thinks, another who knows the secret handshake. She asked me how long, meaning how long off the bottle. I told her five years. She asked me which house I went to? I replied, I didn’t do AA. In which the rant followed. AA isn’t just about sobriety. AA teaches you how to live.

I noted this brief conversation in my final published chapter. How AA hijacked this person’s life. After all, she wants to be sober too. But she was dragged into the cult and now the cult is her existence. What is my non AA life like? You be the judge.

I engage in heavy physical fitness on a regular basis. I fill my days with emotional enhancing techniques as well such as yoga, Tai Chi and meditation. When I have cravings, they are very transient and mild. And at sixteen years, I rarely even have them. I don’t think about my past life with John Barleycorn. That was a different person. I’m too busy living in the present in my holistically healthy lifestyle.

In that present, I have taken months off to trail walk in the wilderness. There is no path in the Sierra Nevadas that I don’t know. I’ve been through the mountains in western Montana and Alaska as well. In 2010, I hiked 2,007 miles of the Pacific Crest Trail, bowing out at the end because of injury. In 2012, I returned at mile zero and this time crossed the entire 2,660 miles. I trained in my long time art of Muay Thai—in Thailand for eight weeks. I completed a Tough Mudder in 2014 at forty-six. I’ve roamed eastern Europe and Asia with hundreds of pictures of the various temples and castles. I know what Macchu Picchu looks like—after a four day trek to it.

I became proficient in my craft of manual techniques in the genre of physical therapy. I’ve given seminars and lectures on the subject to the younger therapists. Even though mostly retired from that field, I still advance my skills and knowledge as much as possible. The day I pass, I hope there is an open book about the matter on my desk.

I’ve written five books. One is on this very subject and another is how to reinvent your life in all of your planes. The Pacific Crest Trail trek also became a written memoir of forgiveness to all from my turbulent past under the eyes of a Shepherd I found after almost six months of walking in His terrain—whoever He may be. I’ve also set up several Youtube channels and associated blogs and podcasts, which is what I focus on the most in my early eighty percent retirement from physical therapy. I’ve also become proficient in investing, which only serves to enhance my life.

I no longer have chaotic friends from my old life. I had to eventually give them all up. With that came the expulsion of their drama as well. Today, I only associate with positive people who believe in constant progression of Self. A few were prior substance abusers who also left it. They are progressing their lives on all planes as well. They don’t sit in “the rooms” either.

AA will teach me how to live?

The above description of my interaction with AA would be a prime example of how not to live. I imagine this article will fall on deaf ears of the long standing cult members. But for those of you who aren’t indoctrinated yet, ask yourself—whose life looks better? The one of sitting in meetings most nights, smoking cigarettes, guzzling coffee and constantly regurgitating their past while they label themselves as diseased and sick?

Or mine?

It is astounding to me that AA continues to state that they help so many. The fact is, most who start AA fail. They fail and it doesn’t matter what their reasons are for this majority failure rate. If AA was a business, it would be out of business, that’s it and that’s all. But for the minority who “succeed” with your protocol? They may be able to abstain from alcohol. But how much you helped them remains a great matter of debate. For they aren’t living like I am. They are sitting scared to leave your rooms and your cult.

And that isn’t healthy at all.

To journey on a tale of epic transformation on a 2,660 mile trail check out: THE SHEPHERD AND THE RUNNINGWOLF: A PATH TO FORGIVENESS ON THE PACIFIC CREST TRAIL

For those who prefer the youtube version click this line

John Barleycorn: taken from Jack London's memoir of his alcoholism. John Barleycorn: First published, 1913