Leaving “the rooms” and giving up my seat: Finding the space where I am truly free.

Credit: Mountainside

Disclaimer: This will be a lengthy piece. I hesitated to exclude certain details just for the sake of brevity, but I promise it is all important. I am not starting a new conversation, rather this is a conversation that is consistently silenced and dismissed. I’m trying to add to this conversation and bring more awareness to it. So — if you feel like taking a break from your doom scrolling for about 15 minutes, hear me out. I appreciate your willingness and commitment to read it in its entirety.

When I was growing up, the act of using drugs and alcohol terrified me. The thought of not being in control was scary. I also grew up seeing people constantly party and I was not a fan of what it did to many of them. Therefore, I was adamantly against drugs and alcohol until my late teens.

However, that all changed around the time I was 16 or 17 years old. I’m not sure what the exact trigger was — it could have been a mixture of depression, anxiety, struggles at home and school, boredom, curiosity, and just finding enjoyment in mind-altering substances. Whatever the reason, I fell in love with drugs and alcohol. It was a somewhat gradual process, I wanted to ease my way into it because I was still fearful. But it wasn’t long before I knew I had been missing out on something wonderful for a long time.

Using drugs did not become problematic for me for quite some time. I graduated high school with honors and decided to take time off before going to college. I moved back home to West Virginia and began partying more, but I was functional and faced very little consequences. Until I lost my first friend to a fentanyl overdose in 2005. He was 16 years old. He was one of the many casualties in the midst of the prescription opioid crisis that was hitting Appalachia at the time. I was devastated — but it didn’t deter me.

Fast forward a few years. We are now reaching the point where my drug use could be considered problematic. I’m failing my college classes, my friendships are full of conflict, I’m missing work, falling behind on bills, constantly borrowing money from family, and I’m unable to go a day without using because I experience withdrawal symptoms or I constantly obsess over using. I don’t know what to do to fix the problem.

So I moved.

I try to start a new life, in a new state, at a new school, and with new friends.

However, I’m not even there for two weeks before I am back to using drugs again. I’m instantly back on the rat wheel looking for drugs, getting money for drugs, and trying to pretend like everything is okay in front of everyone.

This lasted almost two years before everything fell apart. So, back to West Virginia I go.

The following two years were pretty much when everything went to shit. Using drugs was my first and only priority. I barely held onto a job, I was evicted multiple times, watched by police, I pawned cars, lost cars, lost friends, lost boyfriends, robbed people, was robbed by others, put people in danger, overdosed multiple times, was briefly homeless, jobless, suicidal, hopeless, angry, and just had no idea where to go.

Somehow I figured out how to get myself into treatment in late 2012. I finished detox and a 28-day inpatient program. At first, I was just glad to be alive and have a safe place to sleep with three meals a day. I was willing to do anything to get clean at that point.

Immediately upon entering the 28-day program we were introduced to the 12-steps — and that was our standard of learning about addiction the whole time there. No in-depth mental health care aside from the entrance evaluation, no assistance with structural, economic, social, or other barriers that could have been factors in why we began using drugs in the first place. It was all based on the disease model of addiction and 12-step ideology, and the self.

And honestly, I bought into it. Maybe it was comforting to know that it wasn’t my fault that I was addicted to drugs and there was a systematic method to “fixing” myself and becoming a “productive member of society”. And when I left treatment I dived right in and went full steam with NA for the next 8+ years.

I did everything they told me to do. I stayed abstinent, I got a sponsor, I got a homegroup, I went to meetings regularly, I did service work, I attended events, I worked the steps, I sponsored others, I shared in meetings — all of it. From the very beginning however, I was unable to grasp onto quite a few concepts of the program and implement them into my life. And those issues remained with me throughout my entire involvement with NA.

In addition to the constant cognitive dissonance I was experiencing, more things were ceasing to make sense to me, I was finding more inconsistencies with the program and the fellowship, I was learning more about the history, structure, and origins of 12-step ideology, and realizing that I was not getting all the help that I needed. In addition, I reached a point where my perception around drug use, addiction, and recovery was changing. I was getting more involved in harm reduction and I was looking more into the language we use when we speak about drug use and the meanings we give them.

When I think back to how easily I was convinced to blindly follow the 12-step program despite all the red flags, it’s almost embarrassing. They constantly tell you that NA is not a religious program, that you don’t have to believe in god, you have the ability to establish your own values, and most importantly, being an addict is not a moral failing. However, NA is a descendent of AA, which was heavily influenced by conservative, capitalist, white, male, Christian beliefs. The words god and higher power permeate the literature and the 12-steps in both NA and AA. When you get to the point of establishing your values, they make sure to ask you things like “well, does that value really align with the program’s principles?” or “is that really spiritual or conducive to recovery?”. So, I was expected to choose from a list of acceptable values, or morals, in order for me to be an acceptable recovering addict and a productive member of society. Lastly, they emphasize the fact that being an addict is not a moral failing, but the entire step working process is a moralizing process. The entire process of constantly keeping people informed of your thoughts, feelings, and behaviors, just to have them tell you what you are doing wrong and how you should fix it so that you can remain in step with the program, is a process of moralizing. Everything is your fault, you have a part in everything that happens to you (including abuse, trauma, and victimization), and if the program isn’t working for you, then YOU aren’t doing something right.

And that is really just the beginning as to why I chose to leave NA.

There are a plethora of reasons why I decided that the 12-step path was no longer working for me. The following list are the major factors in my decision, but definitely not an exhaustive list:

1. The 12-steps and the treatment industry have a monopoly on addiction, treatment, and recovery in the US, and as a result, the acknowledgement and acceptance of other pathways has suffered. We have attached ourselves to a singular definition of addiction as a disease and we neglect other causal factors such of racism, poverty, mental health, lack of housing, unemployment, food insecurity, trauma, physical health, and any other structural influences. By applying only the disease model, we have limited ourselves in how we treat addiction — and it creates this contradictory approach of “the addict has a disease and it’s not their fault they have the disease, but everything that happens is a result of their disease and they must find their part in it”. This approach leads to blaming victims of abuse, disparate treatment, discrimination, incarceration, sexual exploitation, poverty, homelessness, unemployment, etc., as a result of their drug use only and not the other way around.
2. The conservative, capitalist, Christian dogma that influenced the 12-steps almost 100 years ago, still permeates throughout the framework of the programs today. Not only were the original principals borne out of this ideology, but they have evolved to align with neo-liberal and capitalist values which are pushed upon the members. They say the program is not religious, but religiosity is heavily entrenched in the language, literature, steps, traditions, and practices of the 12-steps. They say the program is not religious, but you are expected to find a higher power (even if you are agnostic or atheist), pray, and meditate. Without this, you will surely fail in your recovery. Furthermore, the values and morals that are impressed upon you must align with those that are acceptable within the status quo addiction framework — that is a framework that aims to create people who act within a morally acceptable code of behavior, and exhibit traits that are desirable for docile, productive, and obedient citizens. Anything outside of that does not “represent recovery” and can even be deemed as “addict behavior”. All of that comes down to molding ourselves into what society wants us to be — moral, exhibit Christian-like values, obedient, fearful of and in opposition to seeking pleasure outside the norm, taking full responsibility for all of our experiences and dismissing outside influences, and ensuring that we are docile bodies that are able to contribute to the capitalist economy.
3. The 12-step framework and treatment industry has controlled the narrative for so long regarding addiction, that it has perpetuated the stigma that it sought to eliminate, has indirectly influenced the continuous criminalization of drug use, has created a system of forced rehabilitation and governing through addiction, ostracized those who seek different paths, created barriers for research outside the disease model, and inadvertently turned drug users into people with a lifetime disease which has resulted in a fatalistic belief that they can never get better. I hesitate to completely dismiss the disease approach of addiction — there are physiological/biological components to compulsive drug use and serious changes do occur when a person consistently uses drugs for a long period of time. However, increasingly more information is becoming available that suggests that this should not be the only explanation for addiction. The disease model may have had positive impacts by way of creating avenues for treatment of drug users, but it also narrowed the focus and made it a difficult task to challenge the disease framework.
4. The relationship between 12-step programs and the treatment industry have become so intertwined that they are viewed as one in the same. This has created the belief that to be in recovery is to be active in a 12-step program. Many treatment centers in the US teach the disease model of addiction and 12-step ideology, base client success on their progress within the 12-steps, and strongly encourage 12-step participation upon leaving treatment. Very little attention is given to other issues such as mental health, physical health, access to social welfare services, child care, housing, employment, transportation, or other service gaps. This practice also perpetuates a common belief that the abstinence-based approach is the best and only way to really recover. Other methods such as harm reduction, moderation, or medication assisted treatment are viewed as actively using and the person does not qualify as someone in recovery.
5. Because of the focus on the disease model of addiction, there is little room for members of 12-step programs to get the help they need for other issues. Mental health, trauma, victimization, socioeconomic, and disparate treatment that is experienced is not properly addressed, and many times it is almost always attributed to the disease of addiction. If someone has depression or anxiety, it is a result of their drug addiction. If a person experienced abuse, assault, or any kind of victimization, it is a result of their addiction because they put themselves in those situations. Socioeconomic and disparate treatment are also a result of their addiction, rather than a precipitating factor. The answers for those that seek help for these issues are similar: “Go to more meetings”, “Work a better program”, “Share about it more”, “Write about it”, “Call your sponsor”, or “Pray about it”. I knew this had become a major problem when I reached out to members following a period of severe depression and suicidal ideation, and all I received was a pat on the back and a “Keep coming back”.
6. This leads into the issue of what I like to call “recovery gaslighting”. Because all of our problems are attributed to the disease of addiction, many concerns are left dismissed and invalidated. I was told that it’s just my disease talking, I just need to be more grateful, depression is just a symptom of your disease and unless you want to use then you’ll be fine, you’re obviously not doing something right and seem to be stuck in the triangle of self-obsession, and if you just do what is suggested then it will all be okay. I have spoken with people that have experienced extreme trauma in their lives and were unable to find proper help for it. They were told by sponsors and other members that they need to find their part in what happened and by continuing to carry it for so long, they are responsible for that trauma still affecting them. This is indicative of an abusive relationship and it causes more harm to those already in pain.
7. The language and definitions used within the 12-step world perpetuates the moralizing and prohibitionist strategy that is attached to the war on drugs. According to 12-step ideology, addiction is a brain disease that affects you physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually — it places all responsibility on the person, to be in recovery is to be abstinent, and you aren’t considered “clean” if you aren’t abstinent and practicing the 12-steps. This perpetuates the moral panics regarding drug use, the criminalization of drugs and drug users, and viewing drug users as immoral, bad, and unproductive citizens. This creates a benchmark of who is worthy and who is not. This also makes it more difficult to implement practical, evidence-based strategies such as harm reduction, supervised consumption sites, safe supply, medication assisted treatment, decriminalization and even legalization. This creates a racial, gendered, and classist hierarchy amongst drug users.
8. The act of using drugs and alcohol in not inherently a bad thing. Humans have been seeking altered states of mind since the beginning of civilization. There is nothing wrong with wanting to feel different, escape reality, or explore different areas of the mind. But, the moralizing and prohibitionist approach that has dominated views of drug use, as a result of the influence of 12-step ideology, has turned ANY drug use into something that is taboo, dirty, unspiritual, and creates a “better than thou” attitude amongst those that choose abstinence. Do people end up in a cycle of extremely problematic drug use with an immense amount of consequences? Of course they do. Is abstinence appropriate for some people? Absolutely. I do not deny the fact that some people may need to remain abstinent for them to avoid problematic drug use. However, I no longer believe that I am somehow better because I choose to live life without mind-altering substances. There is nothing wrong with those that choose to do so, but within the 12-step framework it is viewed as weak and the inability to live life on its own terms.
9. Because of the principles and traditions of 12-step programs regarding addiction and recovery, we witness a phenomenon called “recovery gatekeeping”. Recovery gatekeeping occurs because any kind of path outside the 12-step abstinence method is not viewed as “clean” or “recovery”, therefore those people are not fully accepted within the fellowship. The gatekeeping by 12-step programs ostracizes people that may have nowhere else to go, perpetuates their lack of self-worth and acceptance, and in some cases it kills people. This kind of behavior can also explain incidents where members have been told they cannot be on MAT or medications prescribed by a doctor for a mental or physical illness.
10. Not all aspects of the 12-steps are negative. I will give credit where it’s due and I did find some relief in some aspects of the step-working process. There is nothing wrong with getting to know ourselves better, finding emotional and mental well-being, identifying problematic patterns of behaviors and better alternatives, doing inventories of our lives to evaluate what is working and what is not working, and to acknowledge the times we have harmed others and make amends for that. However, I believe that the 12-steps cross into unhealthy territory when we are conditioned to apply that to every aspect of our lives and attribute everything we do and who we are to that process as well. This eliminates the possibility of other causal factors and explanations, it creates this conflicting paradigm of constantly having to work on ourselves and accepting personal responsibility but then blaming the disease of addiction for any and all setbacks or struggles, and it creates limitations on us mentally, emotionally, and even spiritually for some of us. In other words, everything that makes me who I am and what I do is a result of my addiction, and the 12-steps is the only way to fix that. Some things are just regular human experiences that require a regular human response.
11. This will begin to tread into the more personal and individual grievances with 12-step programs, but there is a common issue that I and many others have experienced — and that is the conditional love and friendship. When I first entered the rooms of NA, I thought I had found my people. There really is a benefit to mutual help and support from people who are just like you. I will never refute the importance of that. I felt like I found a group of people that would accept me for me, not judge me for my past or future mistakes, and (to an extent) unconditionally love and support me. But, unfortunately, that was not my experience. The rooms of NA reminded me of high school. And yeah, I get it, anywhere you have large groups of people there will be conflicting group dynamics and not everyone is going to like everyone. It’s human nature, I understand that. However, what I don’t understand, is the extreme focus 12-step programs place upon unity, love, compassion, tolerance, open-mindedness, acceptance, and much more — only to place conditions on their relationships with others. Not only are there cliques and mean girls/guys within the rooms, but if you are not doing the program the way they think you should be doing it, you are not worthy of their time, love, acceptance, or compassion. Whether members have relapsed or left by choice, those that decided to come back, most of them stated that they were abandoned by 12-step members. They were not important until they came back to a meeting. This is not behavior indicative of love and compassion. With the exception of a handful of people I already communicated with regularly, I am basically non-existent to those I associated with in NA for over eight years. Sure, there’s random communication on Facebook comments, and we are all busy adults these days. I get it — to a point. But it was like that before I left. Now it’s only worse. I’ve basically been shunned. I have met some amazing people in NA and some of them are still my friends today — this is definitely not to describe everyone. But overall — it’s a huge disappointment and quite heartbreaking.
12. I recognize that as a former drug user that became addicted to many substances, I absolutely need to be cognizant of what medications I take. I have never disputed that fact. And everyone is different in this scenario — not everyone will have the same experience. However, what I have a problem with, is the 12-step guilt that I developed over the years that got so bad I thought I had relapsed when I took pain medication after a surgery last year. Complete emotional breakdown. Thought I lost everything. That is not okay. That is not healthy. Do we need to be aware of what we are taking and be honest with ourselves about our motives? Absolutely. But do we deserve to suffer in pain just because a certain medicine might make me feel a certain way? No. You cannot heal properly when you are in intense pain. I did not choose to go into recovery to be miserable. There are other examples where members have needed other medications that could be considered worrisome and they either choose not to take them and experience a low quality of life, they tell just a few people out of fear of judgment, or they hide it altogether. I can no longer feel guilty for taking something that I legitimately need to improve my quality of life. I will no longer allow people to tell me that it is “my disease” telling me that I need that medication. The 12-step guilt-and-shame is dangerous, abusive, and again perpetuates the abstinence/prohibitionist narrative.
13. The inconsistencies within the steps became too much for me to reconcile within myself after over eight years. Beginning with the issue of powerlessness, returning myself to “sanity” (on society’s terms), turning my will and life over to a higher power that I don’t even believe in, an intense process of confessions regarding abuse/victimization, resentments, illegal activities committed, sexual/romantic relationships, feelings, and secrets, an expansion of the self-investigatory process by identifying character defects and shortcomings, making a list of everyone I have wronged and making amends to them when appropriate, conducting a daily personal inventory, strengthening my relationship with a higher power I still don’t believe in and continue to pretend that I am praying and meditating, and then applying all of this in all aspects of my life while also sharing it with other 12-step members. To reiterate, there are some aspects of this process that were helpful and will remain helpful components in my life and being a better person. Not all of this had a negative impact on me. However, I do not agree with being part of a reoccurring process of confession, guilt, shaming, and having to align my values with a proscribed definition of “recovery”.
14. I constantly felt like I was walking on eggshells when I was a 12-step member. I felt like all of my decisions and actions were judged by my sponsor and other members, that everything I did had to be spiritual and in alignment with recovery and 12-step principles, I couldn’t do anything too out of the norm or people would get suspicious and “begin to worry about me”, I had to make the program my first priority over everything (sound familiar?) and if I took extra time for school, travel, or family, I was “treading in dangerous territory”. I became someone that felt like I had to check with my sponsor before making any decisions, if something I wanted to do didn’t correlate with the views of those around me then I wasn’t working the program right and needed to re-evaluate what I’m doing, and so much more. There is nothing inherently wrong with having a support group and reaching out for advice in life, especially for major decisions. That’s normal adult behavior. However, this kind of emotional and mental control is traumatic, especially for those of us that came into the program with similar trauma. This strips us completely of our autonomy as adults and makes us feel like we don’t have freedom to make the choices we want to in life — or that we are incapable of making good choices.
15. Lastly, at least for this list, I could no longer be complicit in the systematic gatekeeping and gaslighting imposed by the 12-steps that resulted in the ostracizing of people who use drugs who sought help from the fellowship, but were turned away because their idea of recovery was different. People are dying. People have been dying. Whatever it is we are doing, is obviously not working. Like I’ve previously stated, I want to meet people where they’re at. I want to love them unconditionally. I want to practice radical empathy. I want to provide whatever space they need in that moment. I want to give the love and acceptance I never got. I want to keep people alive.

So, if you have reached this point, congratulations and thank you for hanging in there. I know it was a lot. Your time is valuable and I appreciate you taking the time to read my semi-novel.

After saying everything above, I want to emphasize that I don’t hate 12-step programs or all the people in them. I recognize the importance and value they have in many people’s lives and I am so grateful that the program works for those people. I will always support them in their journeys. But, after over eight years, I have just reached the point where the 12-step journey is no longer a journey I want to be on. It is not conducive to my personal beliefs, values, understanding and perception of drugs, or my mental and emotional well-being. And that is okay!

I have met some of the most amazing people in the rooms — and they know who they are. It may only be a handful of people, but they are wonderful humans. I plan to keep them in my life as long as they are willing to be a part of it.

This was not meant to be a personal attack on anyone. My intention is not to disparage the journey that does work for many people. I love a lot of you that I have crossed paths with in my journey and I wish nothing but the best for you.

But, in closing, I can no longer “take what I need and leave the rest”. That just doesn’t work for me. It’s exhausting trying to justify the overwhelming negative aspects just so I can “have a place to stay clean and recover”. The mental and emotional battles are just too exhausting. I didn’t quit compulsively using drugs just to replace the drug use with a hegemonic ideology that limits my life just as much as my problematic drug use did. This is not the freedom I was looking for when I put the needle down almost nine years ago.

Aside from feeling like I’ve been shunned and forgotten by many, I feel the best I’ve ever felt since my problematic drug use ended. I feel more mentally and emotionally open and like I no longer look at the world with blinders on.

I will celebrate nine years of abstinence in eight days. My “clean time” does not define me, and it is but one version of recovery, but it is still an exciting moment. This will be the first time I will be “celebrating” outside the rooms of NA — and it’s different but exciting.

For the first time in nine years, I feel free.

“You have no idea how high I can fly” — Michael Scott, The Office