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Boston, MA, United States
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Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Someone PLEASE Put A Warning Label On That BITCH

The last time I got sober was in Ocean Beach, California (OB), a small town on the coast in San Diego, CA.  I had been through hell and was totally nuts when I walked into the clubhouse there.

A lot of the men who go to A.A. in general are total pigs who love to prey on new comers (13 stepping SCUMBAGS), and the OB Clubhouse is no different.

Almost every single guy in the place was trying to get in my pants the moment I walked in the door. It made me sick to my stomach.  I should have walked out then, but I felt like the scum of the earth after what I went through prior to that time. I just put up with it for the first month or so.

Finally, when the ogling and comments got way out of hand, I announced in a meeting I was not there to be their new plaything.  Not that it helped much.

A lot of those men where total perverts, but their behavior is mild compared to most of the women in the halls of O.B. AA.

These women are nothing but a mob of gossipy bitches who spend their lives stuffing their feelings with food, talking smack about people, and spilling the dark secrets we suckers thought we where sharing in confidence to anyone willing to listen.

The first two and a half years I spent in O.B. A.A. meetings where the loneliest I have ever experienced in my entire life (yes, it was worse than prison).  For twenty one years of my life, I was under the false impression that A.A. is a safe place to go for support for my perceived alcoholism and drug addiction.

My final "bottom" was severe.. I was beaten enough to do the program how it's laid out in the book.

Unfortunately, nearly everyone in the rooms, except the MEN, snubbed me in Ocean Beach. The only support I received was a collective vote on how nice my ass is from a bunch of guys I wouldn't touch with YOUR hand, let alone mine!

One particularly SCUMMY ass hole had Thirteen Stepping down so well that he loved to say "it doesn't talk about THAT in the big book," while his eyes focused on my BREASTS!

That guy will ALWAYS be a major DOUCHE BAG.

AA's tell you all the time to stick with your gender, but when I tried to make friends with the bitches in those meetings (REALLY, I TRIED) all I ever heard was how crazy everyone thought I was. They talked about me, laughed at me, teased me.

Heck, my previous sponsor took pride in announcing to the entire group how she really did not want to invite me to her house to work the steps, like she did with everyone else she sponsored.  She said she was afraid of being alone with me because I was "crazy." She shared this while she was giving me a token for my second year of sobriety in front of my home group.


Finally, after I "went out" (relapsed) once a month for three months, one of the Matriarch's of O,B. AA called me (how did she get my number?) to offer to work the steps with me, since I was "going to die if I did not get this program right." 

From the outside, it seemed like this woman had everything I THOUGHT I wanted at the time:  she was engaged to a man who loves her (and is WAY, WAY too good for her), lives in a beautiful house near the beach in San Diego (her man owned the place LONG before she showed up), two beautiful, loving step-daughters (who she treats like inconvenient, but useful,slaves), a brand new car (he bought it for her) a house full of people all the time (until you cross her).

And, she has the respect of the AA community on the beach (so I thought), thanks to her 16 years of sobriety and the ability to regurgitate the AA Bible.

Brainwashed, and desperate, I accepted her offer.

My life changed overnight.

Suddenly, I had a bunch of friends.

My phone rang all the time and I had things to do. I was part of a group (clique).  I thought, finally, I am going to be alright. I became a proud little minion. Like the rest of the group, I was at my sponsors house as often as I could be.

We celebrated birthdays, had BBQ's, sat around the fire in the back yard talking late into the night about how grateful we all were to be sober in the Halls of AA.

Like a good sponsee, I did the dishes for her, told her how great she was, thanked her over and over for being willing to help me, in spite of my "craziness."  I even coordinated her wedding for her on the day of the event because, really, as I figured out pretty quickly, this BITCH is incapable of doing anything productive.

The only thing she is really GREAT at and willing to put any effort into is brainwashing people the AA way.

Aside from that one dismal thing, she is a fat, miserable, lazy, controlling, dishonest, gossipy, petty wench who commandeered a household that was way better off before she took over (God, if you are there, PLEASE HELP HER VICTIMS).

Everything was great until my sponsor's new brother in law committed suicide in April of this year (2010) after she kicked him out of her husband's house.  He went to Cambodia and threw himself off a balcony to his death.  They found tons of empty bottles in his room.  (This is a tragedy that happens much too often when people go out, but that is another story).

I was in Las Vegas when I got the fateful call, visiting my mom.

We had just sat down for dinner when the phone rang.  My heart broke in a million little pieces when I heard about my dear, talented, handsome friend.  I dropped everything to make the five hour trip to San Diego by car.  I was determined  to be supportive to my group.

It was late when I got there, most of the people who had been visiting all day where leaving when I showed up. I was completely exhausted, so I went to sleep on the couch.

The house was already starting to fill up again when I woke up the next morning.

As usual, when I was visiting my sponsor's place, I went to the kitchen, made a pot of coffee, then headed out to the patio.  Her husband was already up, smoking a cigar outside. After I said good morning, he said my sponsor asked him to speak to me about something.

Apparently, she was upset with me because I had not done the dishes from the gathering the night before.  He said he knew that I always do a lot when I am visiting, but that she would like it if I could just stay on top of doing that chore (so she wouldn't have to do it).  I was stunned.  I always did everything for her.

Why would she have him talk to me about something I usually do?

As if I wasn't already questioning what the fuck this cow had to offer me, now I was totally annoyed by her passive aggressive solution to handling something so petty. I spoke to her about her problem and reminded her that I arrived late, had not had a bite to eat with them and did not even enter the kitchen. Therefore; (BITCH) I had no idea about the dishes.

I tried very hard to placate her with an apology and I thought we had worked things out, but she was on my case again two hours later when she and her husband returned from spending his money on a shopping trip.

One of the kids was planning her tenth birthday party and she needed some photographs to put on her invitations.  I was happy to oblige when this sweet girl asked me to take her picture. We were in the middle of our photo shoot when sponsor bitch pulled me to the side again to talk to me about how I did not "make the couch look pretty" when I got up.


At this point, I was totally IRRITATED by her.

I'm certain my distaste for her behavior showed all over my face when I asked her what was up with her problem with me?  She told me "this isn't working."  I asked her what she was talking about, we went back and forth.  It got ugly.  She asked me to leave.

I was totally blown away by her behavior.  Hurt.  And, Very angry.  She was under my skin so much that I could not wait to get the hell out of there. I grabbed my bag and started collecting my stuff that was everywhere in the house.

By this time, there were a bunch of people on the patio hanging out with her husband.  I went outside to get my lap top and told him I was leaving because she had kicked me out of his house.

When he asked me why, I was not holding back.  I told him it was because I will not allow her to treat me the way she treats his children.  He followed me into the house, along with my fellow minions.

I guess I was not moving fast enough for her, because she began screaming at me to get out of her house "right now," then she grabbed me by the throat and began to drag me out of the house through the kitchen!

She scared the shit out of me.  I am no match for a woman that size! I mean, she's strong from doing Yoga AND she is a compulsive eater.  She has an ass the size of Cleveland.  It took four guys to pull her off me!

When I finally got away from her, I ran to my car as fast as I could. I'll tell you something, I wanted to get drunk more than I ever have in that moment, but I did not.

Instead, I drove around aimlessly, trying to figure out what I should do. I bawled my eyes out in grief over my friend who just died, my sponsor, my supposed friends and the years I just realized I'd wasted in AA.

Shortly after I left the house, my A.A. sponsor text a fucking lame apology that will never be sufficient (She still, to this day, has NEVER made the proper AA amends she preaches).

Also her husband left a voice mail message where he made a joke about what happened to me.  He actually laughed as he left the message.  They all wanted me to come back to their house so we could work it out .

You get violent with me, I AM DONE.


He said she was embarrassed because she knew she would never be able to live what she did to me down; everyone was going to make fun of her.


Being made fun is, at best, the minimum consequence she should face for assaulting me. That CUNT is lucky I did not go directly to the police station, show them the red welts on my neck and have her arrested.

Lucky for her I am an ex-con who HATES THE FUCKING COPS more than I hate her. 

Shortly after this incident, I started noticing how my face book friend count was shrinking.  All of my new "support group" where booting me off their pages. True, I did spew a little bit about what happened (in an anonymous way, of course!).  I was crazy, brainwashed, pissed off and REACHING OUT for help, that is not, and WILL NEVER be available to me in the rooms A.A.

I did what I was taught to do in these types of situations: don't drink, go to a meeting, talk to someone in AA.

What a crock of shit!

After my sponsor ASSAULTED me, I got in touch with one of the other minions to vent via instant message. I thought she was a friend and expected us to have a confidential conversation, since she is a member of my support group.

The  Anonymity that is supposed to be a PRINCIPLE of the program, will ALWAYS be tossed in favor of the group, or any  members GREED.

This fact was shown to me for the umpteenth time when I found out the following day that "my friend and support" put our entire instant message conversation, WORD FOR WORD, with my FULL NAME on her blog. 

How do I know? I was a follower and got notification of her new post in my fucking email. Seriously?  Did that really happen?

YES. In Ocean Beach, CA Alcoholics Anonymous.

What a freaking CUNT!

You are probably wondering why the hell I continued to go to AA for so long as I did, if it was that bad.  Well, I have the answer for you: I was indoctrinated at a very young age to the principles of AA.  Like a lot of people, I was convinced that program is the only solution for a hopeless case like me (can you say brain washed?).

Yes, it took me a REALLY LONG TIME  to finally understand that A.A. is a fucking wall that is never going to produce ice cream for me.

What can I say? I am a slow learner (not really).  My old sponsor did do ONE thing for me.  Her attack knocked the sense right back into me. I will never waste another second in THE CULT we call AA.

I'm really GRATEFUL to her and all, but for fuck's sake, will someone *PLEASE* PUT A WARNING LABEL ON THAT BITCH?

Oh, never mind.  I'VE DONE IT FOR YOU!

Click here to find out what happens next

DeConstrucor's Comment In Response to LETTER TO MY "FRIENDS" IN AA (page above)

"Brav fucking O.....Standing O fucking Vation. Or perhaps the Charlie Daniels quote from the Geico commercial of "thats how you do it son"

That was incredible.

Reminded me a little of "the letter" at the end of the Breakfast Club (perhaps the greatest movie ever)

Keep it up, dont be afraid to kick them in the teeth once in a while.

Always remember that its the misfits, the rebels, and the troublemakers that are the ones that change the world."

He post the following video at the end of his comment.

Thank you, my friend.
I am both Flattered and HONORED.

*This Video is here to support Decon's Words, not OBAMA (or any politician for that matter, since I've never been allowed to vote) Sincerely, Go-Go Rach.