This week, Tara Grace of Burn the Stigma joins! We are two pees in a restless, neurodivergent pod and found, by the grace of God, that we simply couldn't have that program AA demands.

Tara discovered her way through sobriety in less ideal situations, including being placed in an AA immersion center, where there was no HIPAA, no clinicians, and they definitely didn't take insurance. Other AA members ran the place.

She also spent a significant amount of time at a sober living home in Texas, which could be best described as a "Big Book Thumper" atmosphere.

Eventually, Tara's return to self happened thanks to cannabis-based harm reduction, and she sets out to raise awareness around this practice through her podcast, Burn the Stigma's Recovery Rebellion podcast.

Oh, and the whole ADHD...find out how our neurodivergence wasn't compatible with AA!

You can check Tara's work out on YouTube or find more information in the show notes.

"We're waiting for [substances] to jump out of you in the parking lot because you were out there doing push-ups. My life was consumed by substances for all that time, and you're constantly waiting for something to get you."

Guest Joan points to something spoken ad nauseum, but not in her framing. We speak so much about using and relapse in AA, but never that this dialogue keeps us constantly thinking about substances.

Isn't the point of sobriety to remove yourself from this use disorder—the obsession?

It wasn't until Joan learned about the abstinence violation effect that she could understand why this zoom in on drinking and using wasn't serving her.

The abstinence violation effect (AVE) is a psychological reaction where a minor slip or mistake turns into a full relapse because a person views the initial lapse as a total personal failure

What Happens During AVE

• All-or-Nothing Thinking: Believing that breaking a rule even once means you have completely failed.
• Negative Emotions: Experiencing intense guilt, shame, and hopelessness.
• The "What’s the Point?" (bucket of fuck-its in AA land) Attitude: Deciding that since you already ruined your streak, you might as well give in completely.
• Escalation: Turning a single mistake (like eating one piece of junk food or having one drink) into a massive, uncontrolled recurrence of the old habit.

It's the first time I've met someone who was told by her own sponsor (on multiple occasions) that she needed to leave AA. She did; it was killing her. 13 Steppers, love bombers, and a home group that really took "groupthink" way too far had caught up with her. She gave her all to this program—for 26 years—only to be called "crazy" and banished.

She's new to going it without AA; a program where all her friends still congress. She is still deprogramming; remembering to not overextend herself, say yes to everything, and sacrifice her own needs for others. Her own therapist told her she's not allowed to help people right now. She's broken that rule twice; it's simply a challenging task.

For those who don't know, 13 stepping is when a member of authority preys on a vulnerable member, typically someone new or very young. 13 steppers are commonly AA heroes, and if they're not, a sponsor will tell you to just ignore them—dead stop. There are no repercussions for the 13 stepper, but victims are often blamed for being in their line of fire. It's up to the vulnerable member to try a different meeting, pray for the 13 stepper, and so on.

I would be remiss to say that part of the AA defense is that "not all meetings are like that" and "not all male members are like that," but plenty are, and vulnerable members are not set up to defend themselves. So how does anyone avoid this predatory environment if they already have a target on them? Has anyone ever actually been predatory-free by "trying another meeting"? There are predators in women's meetings, too.

People who have had enough of this 13-step program are told they have a bad program, that they're crazy, and that they asked for it. A place of safety turns into the most unsafe environment at the flip of a coin.

Joan never stopped speaking about these predators, and being gaslit so many times can make anyone feel crazy. Despite all the conditioning and grooming she went through, she still sees how harmful those members could be, and I'm so glad she didn't submit to their demands.

If you're considering leaving AA, your reasons are valid. Even when we think we're fully programmed into a group thinking that doesn't serve us, the real versions of ourselves are in there—screaming to get out.

You're welcome on the other side; we're having a lot of fun.

Thank you, Joan; you brave, smart spirit!

If there is anyone who can help people deprogram from the cult of AA, it's Liz.

Liz was a teenager when she dropped into AA meetings. The early 2000s were a mindfuck for millennial teens; Skinspo was completely unregulated and encouraged, ADHD was just a punchline, and that nervous, crawly feeling of an artist was impossible to articulate. If you couldn't tell, that was Liz, making her an easy target for these rooms to manipulate. To them, it wasn't neurodivergence, CPTSD, or starvation—just character defects that only the steps could fix.

Being pushed into the 12-step and then going through the rehab gauntlet is a special flavor of recovery that isn't for the weak of heart. And if you know anything about those rehabs, they're always 12-step-based and for-profit. After completing those rehabs, where can you work? What can you do?

Work at that rehab. Liz did that, and then some, working her way up to executive director of the rehab. She witnessed body-brokering, an illegal and predatory practice where third-party recruiters get paid cash, kickbacks, or other perks to refer vulnerable people—usually those struggling with drug or alcohol addiction—to specific treatment centers or sober living homes. This practice is highly illegal, but it is still occurring.

Liz was a die-hard 12-step member, but she couldn't shake the feelings of sponsorship abuse, the junk science, the problematic steps. After years of questioning and pushing down her very strong feelings, she didn't pick up a chip on her 10-year soberversary and broke free. She hasn't looked back, except to spread awareness and help those asking the same questions.

Also in this episode, Liz told me about these "AA Retreats" that have no doctors, no insurance, and no HIPAA laws. They moonlight as B&Bs, but act as very expensive, for-profit rehabs that are run by AA members and apply the 12 Steps to the entire thing. These patients can't leave of their own accord. She told me to call a facility, and I did, and that's all I'll say for now. Liz will be returning to this podcast to break down that call and discuss more about the illegal practices within treatment centers.

Liz doesn't dice words and, to be real, she blew me away. I've been wrestling with how to show up on this podcast. I want to be objective, but I also want to be intolerant. I've honored free will: if it works for you, so be it. But that allows members to silence victims or deflate their experiences. Liz started off the episode with a precursor; her words verbatim:

“If you’re listening to this podcast, it’s because you’re looking for reasons to stay in AA or to validate what you already believe to be true about AA. If you’re here to defend it, then this isn’t the podcast for you. I’m not going to endorse AA. I’m not going to give the empty response of “well, if it works for you, then go for it.” I don’t represent that narrative, and I’m not speaking on behalf of any voice like that. I’m here to speak on behalf of people who have incurred damage and have seen damage by the 12 Step culture and the treatment industry. I’m speaking for the person who is afraid to leave the meeting.”

That's where I stand, and I won't be soft anymore. Thank you, Liz, for joining and teaching me how to approach this whole thing. Your words are endlessly valuable.