Help Me Find Recovery from Addiction to The Bachelor

Hi, my name is Sally and I’m addicted to The Bachelor on ABC. I’m writing to you all today hoping to find recovery from addiction to this deadly and morally corrupt reality show. I first started watching The Bachelor on ABC during Kaitlyn’s season. You know, the one where the cute and spunky Canadian was obviously going to choose Shawn Booth no matter what, until serial attention whore Nick Viall (Yup, Pronounced Vile) showed up for his second of what would be 4 appearances on ABC’s hit and soul crushing series.

Many of you Bach heads probably think I’m not that into it since I started watching during Kaitlyn’s season, but don’t worry I went back and caught up because, in this addiction, Netflix is my dealer and provides hours of backlogged roses and tears while I twitch, itch, sweat and wait for the clock to strike 8pm on Monday, so I can find out who deserves to be trampled on by Nick Viall next. This week it was Liz, kind of felt bad for her, because she got sent home simply for having sex with Nick 6 months ago and Nick of all people claimed she was just in it for the attention. I felt bad but then I didn’t because if you choose to actually go on this show, you’re sicker than I am… Maybe.

Drug Use and Watching the Bachelor on ABC are 100% the Same Thing


So here is my problem, beside the only words Nick Vialle know how to say being, “Ok” “Hey” and “Did You Have Fun”. I realized that I needed to find recovery from addiction to The Bachelor because the same patterns I played out in my addiction to heroin were being repeated every time I clicked over to watch stupid ass Chris Harrison say, “Tonight on the most dramatic episode of The Bachelor ever.” Every episode is not the most dramatic Chris Harrison! Now you really want to create the most dramatic moment in Bachelor history, have Nick give the ring to Chris Harrison. Sorry, had to get that out. Here’s the deal, my drug use consumed me. I had to have heroin and at the same time I hated it. It called to me, but every time I shot it in my veins I hated my self. I was angry when it was over, I wanted to die and I swore I would never waste an hour of my life ruining my mind body and soul with heroin or alcohol, but the next day I did it again. This is how I feel when I watch The Bachelor on ABC.

Recovery from Addiction to The Bachelor Will Not Be Easy

I’ve tried to stop before. When it was apparent that JoJo Fletcher was, as expected going to choose Quarterback of the douche squad Jordan Rodgers just because he has a famous brother, I stopped watching. I bothered me each Monday night that I wasn’t by the TV, in fact I started reading in the garage so I wasn’t tempted. Then this season when Nick Vialle was announced as the lead on the show, I knew my recovery from addiction to The Bachelor was over. I relapsed on Bach nation hard. I started a fantasy Bachelor work pool, my boss found the sheets and reprimanded me for-spending company time on this “Horse Shit.”


Watch the Bachelor Was Ruin My Work Life

My drug use effected my work performance and now so did this stupid, addicting and horrible show. I desperately need to receive the gift of recovery from addiction to the Bachelor. The problem is, all my friends watch it and I can’t just leave all my friends? Many of my girls in Jersey say they will punch me if I ever watch the Bachelor again, but it took me 2 minutes to convince them it was ok and next thing I know I am screaming at the TV, “Of course Corinne is going to take her shirt off, that’s all Nick wants anyway!” Monday is right around the corner and I will spend all day at working obsessing about how much I hate Nick and wondering if I will be able to stay away from the TV. At this point, my drug use and this silly show are twins. Wait, remember the twins from Ben’s season? They should be the Co-Bachelorettes! That would be amazing! They would each have to choose another set of twins to marry! Yup, I’m screwed. I’ll be chasing this dragon ‘til I’m 80. The good news is in 50 years; Nick will still be single.

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