My AA Experience

And why I chose to leave

I decided to join Alcoholics Anonymous on June 10, 1990, and decided to leave on April 28, 2019. For almost 29 years, I attended AA meetings regularly and practiced the fellowship’s prescribed twelve steps of recovery from alcoholism, eventually becoming an addictions counsellor.

After seven years absent from AA and the recovery community, I decided it was time, and would be therapeutic, to document some of my AA experience. The following is an attempt to condense those 29 years into a general overview and is not a complete, detailed and exhaustive chronological account. That would be too long and probably quite boring. My opinion of AA has morphed and changed over time, and I have no doubt my thoughts and perspectives regarding my time in AA will continue to develop.

When referring to Alcoholics Anonymous, it is important to note that there are two distinct and separate entities being spoken of: the fellowship of AA and the program of AA. The fellowship is made up of people. The program is a model of recovery from the so-called disease of alcoholism outlined in the book, “Alcoholics Anonymous”, commonly know in AA as the “Big Book”. I will attempt to clearly distinguish between the fellowship and the program yet will generally allow the context in which I use these terms to enable the reader to differentiate between them. There is another reason I make this distinction.

Generally, and making allowance for those notorious bad apples found in any gathering of souls, those in the fellowship of AA are empathic, kind, caring, generous, dedicated and well-intentioned. The reason I left the fellowship had nothing to do with its members and I currently maintain good relations with several of them, most of whom will likely remain life-long friends. My opinion of the program of AA, however, is quite different. Before I get to that, I’d like to answer a few questions the reader may have about my position toward AA as a whole.

Do I believe AA members are in error for continuing their allegiance to all things AA? Yes.

Am I willing to look down on them for doing so? No.

Do I believe AA’s opinion that alcoholism is a disease is correct? No.

Am I, like the majority of those who have come out of the fellowship, willing to ruthlessly castigate and bash the AA organization and its members? No.

Do I think I am a better, more well-adjusted human being having spent nearly 29 years in the fellowship? Yes.

Would I advise those in AA to get out? Yes, and I’d also advise them to start listening to the Addiction Solution Podcast by those at the Freedom Model right away. And to Christian members, read this article through to its completion. AA is not Christian.

Do I advise that those in AA do their due diligence and research all they can about addiction, the disease model, cults, AA’s history, and its co-founders’ lifestyles and spiritual practices? Yes.

Is Alcoholics Anonymous a religious cult? It meets some of the criteria necessary to be labelled a cult but I am not an expert on the topic. I’ll leave that question to those qualified to answer it.

With that, I’ll get on with describing my AA experience and views as best I can.

Three days before attending my first meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous, I had already decided to quit drinking and did just that: therefore, AA was not responsible for me choosing abstinence from alcohol. I made that choice, and that was an extremely important detail unknown to me until a few days after my departure from the recovery program. Previously, I’d given AA the credit for quitting, and given voice to this many times in many AA meetings. But the actual reason I decided to call it quits in the Spring of 1990 was that the mental and physical torture I was inflicting upon myself through excessive drinking had become unbearable, outweighing (by far) any pleasure alcohol was giving me.

Realizing this truth was profound. It took me several days to comprehend that this was only the beginning of de-constructing what I’d come to believe about AA after nearly three decades of indoctrination. It’s what many former members of religious cults experience after leaving – a type of thought-decontamination that, mercifully, occurs gradually enough so the individual is not overwhelmed. It has been that way for me, and I suspect the process is far from over. New information and insights still come my way.

The first AA meeting I attended was on the night of June 13, 1990, in the basement of a church in Pembroke, Ontario. The room was packed. The atmosphere was jovial and abound with light-hearted conversation. A few people introduced themselves with smiles and kind words telling me how glad they were that I was there, and I could see their well-wishes were genuine and sincere. On the wall in front of me were two large banners. They spelled out AA’s twelve steps and twelve traditions, and I spent the next few minutes quietly digesting each and every word outlined on these posters.

I was surprised and comforted they mentioned the word “God” several times. I was well-versed on the contents of the Bible, and I did a second perusal of the banners’ contents judging whether any of AA’s principles conflicted with my Christian beliefs. I decided that no serious conflict existed, but the nagging doubt about this continued over the entire duration of my 29-year stint in Alcoholics Anonymous.

AA’s first step reads as follows: “We admitted we were powerless over alcohol – that our lives had become unmanageable.” I remember spending considerable time at that first meeting thinking about the phrase “powerless over alcohol” and have never stopped thinking about it. These three words have become the foundation of dozens of twelve-step recovery organizations and the entire multi-billion-dollar addiction treatment industry.

The premise that a human being can become powerless over his or her level of alcohol consumption has never been proven, nor has the so-called disease of alcoholism ever been recognized in the field of psychiatry, nor by the justice system. Despite this, the disease model of addiction has become entrenched as fact in our culture. By the time I got to AA, I felt seemingly powerless over alcohol and therefore ready to accept the program’s idea of complete powerlessness. But a feeling is not a scientifically proven fact.

During my years in AA, I believed alcoholism was a disease and preached this message as truth…until I did the research. There is a mountain of evidence available in medical journals and periodicals disproving the disease theory. This is based on the outcome of numerous controlled and repeated experiments involving patients identifying as alcoholics. Whether intentional or not, AA does not mention the existence of these studies nor their verified outcomes in any of its literature.

My early months in AA were very difficult not because of AA, but due to the process of mentally and emotionally recovering from years of heavy alcohol consumption. By the time the fog of alcohol had lifted, I had already, for the most part, bought into the precepts and fundamental beliefs of Alcoholics Anonymous. I attended AA meetings religiously, sometimes two or three a day, and never thought to question what AA had to teach about alcoholism, nor the spiritual principles its members tried to live by, and any cognitive ability to critically analyze what I was being told had been eroded over many years consuming copious amounts of alcohol. That, and the fear of dying drunk, made me susceptible to believing anything AA had to say.

The fellowship of AA does not abuse this vulnerability to ensnare naïve newcomers into membership. I saw no evidence of this type of malicious intent. But due to the fact that those trying to break free of habitual and dangerous drinking are in a vulnerable state of mind, and therefore incapable of a reasonable level of discernment, they present as prime candidates for AA indoctrination. Some call it brainwashing, but again, it is done with the intention of saving peoples’ lives.

It was suggested that I attend 90 meetings in 90 days. The practice of suggesting this is seen by many ex-AA members as cult-like behaviour, ensuring newcomers are indoctrinated with the program’s principles and dogma. While that may be the outcome, it is not, from what I’ve seen, the intent of AA members. Their desire is that newer members get fully immersed in AA so they can achieve and maintain sobriety.

Regular attendance at meetings is deemed to be critical for those wishing to maintain abstinence from alcohol. It is common to hear AA members say such things as “if you stop going to meetings, you will end up drunk” and can look forward to a future of “jails, institutions and death” and “meeting makers make it” and “go to meetings, especially if you don’t want to”. The importance of meeting attendance is pounded into every newcomer’s head. I can tell you that the fear of leaving AA is very real.

It was common for members to discontinue meeting attendance and return after going on a drinking spree. Most came back looking and sounding pretty beat up. Some of their stories were horrendous and held up as solid proof that if someone leaves AA, they will surely drink and perhaps die. But I knew many who left AA and were just fine. I’m one of them.

At nine months of sobriety, I was a complete wreck mentally and emotionally, plagued by depression, anxiety, low self-esteem, and wondering why other newcomers were getting well while I was getting worse. AA friends suggested I go to a treatment centre, so I applied for government funding and was sent to Beech Hill Hospital in Dublin, New Hampshire. Because I didn’t require any detoxing, my stay was cut from the regular 28 days to 23.

The staff at the centre basically touted the same remedy to problem drinking as AA; go to meetings, work the twelve steps, get an AA sponsor to confide in and accept direction from, etc. My experience at treatment was mostly positive, and due to having some sobriety under my belt, I was able to help some of those just getting started. Treatment helped, but the medical staff failed to recognize my problems with mental health, so I remained in the same condition for a long time.

Finally, after three years in AA, I was diagnosed with major depression and social anxiety disorder and put on medication to ease the symptoms. I’ve attempted to go off the medication several times over the years but these trials have proved that I still require medical interventions and probably will for the rest of my life. So be it.

It was nothing new or surprising to hear those outside the fellowship refer to AA as a cult. It never dawned on me to research the matter and properly weigh the evidence - that was yet to come. For the time being, I was happy to put the issue aside and carry on. But it always bothered me, like a pesky housefly refusing to leave me alone. This persisted and grew stronger over the years. As a Christian, my devotion to Christ never wavered, but I cringed at the thought of belonging to a spiritual fellowship that did not declare Jesus as Lord.

Most Christian AA members, not all, have become masters at excusing themselves for proclaiming to newcomers that it is alright to choose a God of their understanding instead of introducing them to Christ’s gospel. It is religious hypocrisy at its worst. When confronted about their duplicity, they are quick to change the subject or defend their position by saying they are merely soft-selling spiritual ideas until newcomers decide to accept Christ in the future. Hmmm…I must have missed that in my Bible.

I knew very little about cults before joining AA and never seriously considered the program to be one. I would often think that some of AA’s characteristics were cult-like, but that’s as far as I went with making any real parallels. But then came the morning of April 28, 2019.

The day started off like any other. I sipped my morning coffee while reading a book of daily meditations titled “Twenty-Four Hours a Day”. This is not part of AA-approved literature but is widely used by its members. (Why AA needs to have its own approved literature list is suspicious, and the practice is common in many cults.) For some reason, I decided that morning to go back and read the book’s foreword, something I hadn’t done since first being introduced to the book decades earlier. In it, the author, Richmond Walker, states he “has used many passages from the book God Calling by Two Listeners” as the basis for the meditations contained in his book. I had to find out what God Calling was all about, and what I found I did not like. That opened the door to discovering what I’d always suspected about the AA program but couldn’t quite articulate, and I soon knew I had to leave Alcoholics Anonymous.

Walker began writing Twenty-Four Hours a Day in 1946. He was an AA member and, apparently, an ex-member of the Oxford Group, a Christian sect widely regarded as a religious cult by many Christian denominations. Oxford Group members were urged to practice automatic writing in the morning after spending time silently waiting for God to speak to them. This is commonly known as channeling. God Calling was apparently channeled by two women identifying themselves as Two Listeners while receiving guidance from Jesus Christ in the manner taught by the Oxford Group.

The two founding members of AA, Bill Wilson and Robert Smith, were also ex-Oxford Group members and used much of the group’s teachings as the basis for the creation of Alcoholics Anonymous. They both habitually held seances and occasionally used ouija boards to speak to the dead (necromancy). Wilson was known to sit quietly until a spirit would speak through him, then have his wife or secretary take notes. Much of this information comes directly from AA-approved literature and is verified by multiple sources.

By the end of that April day, I was convinced my time in Alcoholics Anonymous was over. I could no longer reconcile living as a Christian and belonging to AA.

I gathered all my AA books and literature and burned them. I was done.

My in-depth research started that day but my work is far from complete. There is much more to discover about the origins of the AA program, and the less-than-exemplary conduct of its founders, especially Bill Wilson. He is highly revered, even idolized, within AA. His writings, which make up the vast majority of AA literature, are widely regarded as equal to scripture, even inspired by God.

My research eventually led me to the Orange Papers at:

https://orangepapers.eth.limo/

This is definitely not an AA-approved website. It contains massive amounts of information about AA, its origins and its founders. It doesn’t paint a pretty picture yet I don’t see it entirely as a platform for AA-bashing. Much of it is factual and can be traced back to AA-approved books and publications, but authenticating all the site’s legal documents, letters, quotes and commentary is nearly impossible and would take months or years to complete.

My involvement in Alcoholics Anonymous probably saved my life. The Lord works in mysterious ways and I don’t know how much He played a part in getting me to AA and keeping me there for nearly three decades. One of AA’s unwritten but often-used slogans is “Nobody gets to AA by accident”. Is that a tool employed to retain its members? I don’t know. What I do know is that I am forever grateful to those in the fellowship of Alcoholics Anonymous who took me under their wing and showed me, among other things, two truths about myself: I’m not as bad as I think I am, and I’m not as good as I think I am. They were genuinely interested in my well-being, and I’ll never forget what they did for me.

Daniel (Murphy) Kennedy