by Sally Rosa | Sep 22, 2014 | Recovery
Why Anonymity Sucks: An Anonymous Perspective
No One Can Pronounce Anonymity
It’s f**king impossible to say. No one ever says anonymity right in meetings! Ammanitiittty? Anomaniny? We’ve all tried and failed. Yeah, admit it, you have, too.
Even now, as I’m writing, spellcheck keeps putting the little red line below that stupid word. Oh, wait, it just shot a popup saying, “Stop, you obviously can’t spell. Just stop!”
Before I get into a bunch of other reasons, I want you to know that my number one, absolute, biggest reason for hating annonimity (f**k, did it again) is grammar and pronunciation.
Anonymity Kills People
Okay, moving on, anonymity sucks because it kills people. Yep, I said it – anonymity kills people. I’m sure you’re asking yourself, “What’s this crazy person mean?” Well, I’m happy to tell you.
Bill W. and Dr. Bob founded AA and it worked very well. It worked extremely well, in fact. AA isn’t a cure for alcoholism, it’s better than a cure. It changes lives. It changed my life.
I’m a much better person for having found AA. Think about it, if I’d just stopped drinking and never came into recovery, I’d just be a basic b***h from upstate New York.
Today, I’m a mature, honest woman. I lead by example. AA made me who I am, yet it remains anonymous! My life was flipped and turned upside down! My disease is in remission, yet no one is supposed to know how that happened. Are you kidding me?!
“This just in to NBC Nightly News. Two men in Ohio cured cancer. We can’t tell you how they did it, because they’re calling it Cancer Anonymous. For more info on how to save your life from cancer, find someone who used to have cancer and ask how you can get involved with Cancer Anonymous. You better hurry though, cancer kills fast.”
How f**king stupid does that sound?
Bill W. famously quipped that if he could change anything in the Big Book, he’d change the line, “Rarely have we seen a person fail who has thoroughly followed our path” to “NEVER have we seen a person fail who has thoroughly followed our path.”
If AA works so goddamn awesome, why’d you make it anonymous, Bill? Why’d you make it so hard to find? If we applied this anonymity clause to cancer, the government would swoop in and stop it right away!
Now, I’m not saying we should put up giant billboards saying “AA SAVED MY LIFE.” No, I’m saying put up giant billboards saying “AA SAVED MY LIFE, NEXT MEETING IN FIVE MILES ON THE LEFT, ADMISSION IS FREE.” Tell me that wouldn’t work! You can’t, because it totally would work!
Anonymity Breeds Hypocrisy
AA members are fond of saying we’re only as sick as our secrets. Still, AA wants us to keep our recovery a secret! AA wants me to keep my biggest accomplishment, the thing that saved my life, a secret?! Yeah, right, I’ll get right on that.
If I’m only as sick as my secrets, well, I guess I’m sick right now. Well, if I’m sick right now, I don’t want to be well! The last three and a half years have blown my mind. I wish I could tell you more, but you know, anonymity. Plus, I’m pretty sure Dr. Bob would haunt me in my sleep.
Anonymity Hides Our Success Rate
Know how many people have achieved and stayed sober through AA? No, you don’t? Me neither. Not one single person can find an accurate number or statistic, because of motherf**king anonymity!
Have you ever seen those Passages Malibu commercials? Yeah, we all have. That guy Pax says, “This is not a twelve-step program. This works.” Well, Pax is wrong. Still, we can’t offer evidence to prove him wrong! Know why?, because anonymity has handcuffed our statistics!
Those people who scream and cry that AA doesn’t work haven’t worked the steps. Those quiet people in the back of the room, who say nothing about how well AA works, they’ve worked the steps. So, they remain silent and others die.
Look, I get it, anonymity was important and crucial. In today’s culture, though? In today’s culture, anonymity hurts way more people than it helps.
AA shouldn’t charge money or have spokespeople. It should get out from the shadows, though! It should make itself more available to those who need it. It should let people know that it works 100% of the time, if you follow the steps.
The only way, in my humble opinion, to accomplish this is by getting rid of anonymity.
by Fiona Stockard | Sep 2, 2013 | Benefits of Sobriety
“Waiting is the Hardest Part” – Tom Petty
I agree, Tom, waiting sucks. So, why do we do it? I’m not talking about waiting for the bus, or waiting for a burrito, or waiting for your next paycheck. I’m talking about waiting for things we don’t need to wait for.
The idea of waiting for your ship to come in is ridiculous. If you’re waiting for your ship to come in, get the crap off the beach and start swimming! Go find the damn ship! Yeah, there might be sharks. Yeah, the water will be rough. Yeah, your arms are going to get tired. If you look for your ship, though, you’ll get there a hell of a lot faster than by sitting on your butt, supping coconut juice.
My life sucked! Like, hardcore sucked! I knew I had to stop drinking and getting high. I actually wanted to stop, too! I knew how to stop, but I kept waiting. Waiting to be caught. Waiting to lose it all. Waiting for a sponsor to knock on my door and say, “hey, I’ll sponsor you! I was just in the neighborhood and saw you drinking whisky in your underwear at noon. I kind of think you need help!”
A sponsor isn’t going to walk up to you. It just won’t happen. Let me repeat, IT WON’T HAPPEN!
I guess you can wait. Hell, I did. Here’s the thing, as I stood waited, I kept getting pushed and beaten by my own self-destructiveness. I was tossed around like a tree in a hurricane. I was beaten over and over again, but still refused to move from the path of the storm. Standing still and waiting left me vulnerable to hurt myself and I did. Finally, after a decade of waiting…
I stopped f**king waiting!
I got off the beach, dusted myself off and started to swim! Sharks nipped at my feet. Waves shook me back and forth. My arms felt like they were going to fall off. The water was cold, but guess what? All that crap? It made me stronger!
I went to a meeting and got a sponsor. I met him once a week. I never missed a meeting, not one! Then, eight months later, my life was 100% fireworks blasting, scream it from a mountain top, awesome. All I could ask myself was “why the hell did I wait so long to change?”
Waiting IS the hardest part, so don’t wait!
by Fiona Stockard | Mar 21, 2013 | Addiction Treatment, Drug Addiction
CASE NUMBER: 07-1414
TO: My Mother and Father
Everyone makes mistakes in their life. There are two ways to handle those mistakes, you can turn the experience into a positive, or make it define your lifestyle. I chose to go with option A.
In my case, I have screwed up a lot over the years. Always thinking I was unbeatable, but with time, consequences do arise. You begin to realize that you are above nothing. Even at my lowest point, my parents have stood by me. Originally, this was supposed to be an apology letter, but I have decided to twist it into a thank you letter.
I am not sorry for my addictions, they were not by choice. They helped me become the strong person I am today. They made me realize that life is too short to screw it up for something that benefits me in not one single way.
I choose to look at everything the world has to offer and how I am able to overcome and conquer all. Being a strong person does not get you very far without support from the family.
I just want to thank you for giving me the opportunity to grow into the person I truly am.
Thank you for your support, trust, confidence, and love- it is all appreciated.
Sincerely,
The Best Bull-Sh**ter Ever
________________________________________________________________________________________
Yeah, this was a letter I wrote two years before I got sober. It was part of my probation. I was a great manipulator my entire life. I mean turning an apology letter into a thank you letter? Come on! Give me a break. I kept my family up countless nights. I made them bail me out of jail in the middle of the night and I still had the audacity to withhold an apology?
Addiction is a disease. I know this NOW. I didn’t know it when I wrote my letter (between bong hits and Natural Ice beer sips, or course). I thought if I promised to stop getting high, I’d be a good kid.
I wasn’t ready to get sober, plain and simple. I wasn’t ready to get sober until I had a habit I couldn’t break. When I made amends to my parents, I had over a year sober. I wasn’t simply saying sorry, that I’d be a better daughter, or that I wanted a relationship with them. I already put these things in motion.
See, in sobriety, I learned that actions speak louder than words. I learned how to stop being the best bull-s**tter ever. I learned how to be an honest and genuine person who really could learn from their past.
Sometimes, you just need to reflect and thank God you’re smarter than you used to be!
by A Women in Sobriety | Dec 21, 2012 | Addiction Treatment, Drug Addiction
Written By: Fiona Stockard
Who is a Chronic Relapser?
Once upon a time, I dubbed myself a chronic relapser. Maybe you’ve heard the term?
It’s someone who’s trying to get sober, but can’t stop using. It’s someone who falls into a vicious cycle of going to meetings, using, going to detox, going to meetings, using, going to detox, and finally declaring, “why even bother trying to get sober?”
Potential and the Chronic Relapser
My life wasn’t always this way.
Years ago, I was a kid with so much potential. Many months ago I was in treatment. I did my thirty days. Hell, I even quit smoking and was nominated floor president!
So, what happened? I left treatment and refused to take any suggestions. My heart wasn’t in recovery. I had reservations, stipulations, and speculations. I was nineteen. I never used a needle. I was jealous of thirty-five year olds getting sober. I was jealous they had more years of using than I did! To put it another way, I was battling my demons and not talking to anyone about it.
There were two ways my situation could have played out.
Scenario One: the Road to Happy Destiny
I could have talked to someone about how I felt. I could have gotten a real sponsor, instead of the sponsor I called only once (to cry about my latest arrest). If I was honest about my feelings, I’d have quickly learned that most people new to recovery have the exact same thoughts!
I could’ve taken suggestions, even though I didn’t want to. I could’ve gone to a halfway house and lived with people just like me. I could’ve tried prayer, whether or not I believed in it. Instead, I spent countless hours looking for proof. By doing so, I missed God (or Higher-Power,if you please) altogether.
Scenario Two: Going on to the Bitter End
I DON’T RECOMMEND THIS!!
This was the scenario I chose instead. It’s a terrible and unhappy life. Unfortunately, this disease is cunning, baffling, and powerful. So, off I went.
I teased myself at first, saying things like “I’ll call my sponsor later,” and “I don’t really need to go to that meeting. Maybe I needed the pain. Maybe I needed to get it out of my system. Sometimes we need to be beaten completely down. Later, I learned we hit bottom whenever we stop digging!
I think the most important thing I should’ve done was reach out to people. I should have been open, honest, and upfront with other women.
Honesty and the Chronic Relapser
I’m a true believer that if you’re not ready to get sober, you’re not going to get sober. There’s nothing anyone can do. There’s nothing anyone can say. There’s no place, thing, or person that’ll save you.
If you’re done though, if you’re ready to get sober, there’s hope. For the women who’s fed up with living a sh**ty life, there’s so much hope. Once I was done using, I got honest quick. From this honesty, all sorts of remarkable relationships began to spring up in my life. Even though things around me didn’t change a lot, things inside of me did. I felt like a new woman.
To this day, if I’m going through a rough patch, I know all I have to do is reach out to another woman. All I have to do is be honest. All I have to do is talk to my sponsor, or a sober-support, about it and I feel better.
