Translate

THE DIARY OF A CHICK WHO WALKED AWAY FROM ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS (THE CULT)

My photo
Boston, MA, United States
I don’t need an introduction.

Thursday, November 22, 2012

HOLIDAYS SUCK ASS




HAPPY TURKEY DAY, MY FRIENDS!

Today represents the first Holiday Season, since I was a kid, that I am blessed to experience in a traditional way. I get to spend Thanksgiving AND Christmas with a friend's family in a home filled with love, encouragement and HOLIDAY CHEER.


Most of my adult years where spent not living in the CULT, while I was held hostage by sickos and my emotional terrorist mother whom I pray forgiveness and will be forever grateful to never lay eyes on again.


Last year, I was living in a homeless shelter, with my beloved Tolstoy (R.I.P.), yet it was the best Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year's Eve I've ever had.

Even though we were homeless, Church volunteers made us feel special in a way I hadn't experienced since my mother killed holiday visits with my family, with her usual "because I said so" (non) explanation.   

Christmas at my Grammy's house was the highlight of my life. 

My "mom," brother and I would make the trip by car to my Grandmother's house on the morning of Christmas Eve. 

We went to a stunning Mass at her elaborate, Catholic Church in the evening, then she usually took us out to eat delicious prime rib and fluffy pop-overs at her favorite, fancy restaurant. 

We spent the rest of the night playing games, eating homemade treats and singing Christmas Carols to our hearts content.

My youngest aunt always tucked us into bed, where she read Christmas stories to us kids, until we fell asleep. She always brought a pile of books because our excitement for morning to come kept us up until the wee hours.

As soon as we opened our eyes, we ran as fast as we could to the living room, where the entire floor was buried under elegantly wrapped presents. 

Not only where there multiple presents for each person, she worked the kitchen and the living room at the same time, with grace. 

First, we dumped our over-stuffed Christmas stockings on the floor, where we found all our favorite things, including a can of black olives, since my brother and I adored them.

Once everyone was up, we got to find our presents! Everyone gathered their pile of gifts, then we spent what seemed like hours unwrapping toys and stuff that made us jump for joy. 

The excitement of it all was incredible! Nothing in my life has ever made me feel as good as Christmas at Grammy's! I LOVE AND MISS HER SO MUCH!

Finally, when the immense living room floor was filled with wrapping paper, ribbons and smiles from ear to ear, the family sat down to eat Christmas Brunch, made from scratch, by my Grandmother. 

She always made it a priority to serve our favorite foods and we savored every bite made with LOVE.

Christmas with my family was MAGICAL. My brother and I looked forward to it every year. You can probably imagine how much it hurt when my "mother" refused to take us one year and the next and...we never went back.

Needless to say, the holidays sucked after that.

Christmas was a nightmare. 

My mother was always miserable for some reason or another. I have no idea why she ever asked me what I wanted, since I would find exactly the opposite under the tree. 

Usually, she bought me clothes I wouldn't wear or stupid stuff I had no use for, when I REALLY needed the things I wrote down. 

No matter what I said, she would get me something totally different, then blow up on me when I wasn't thrilled (Praise God, I never have to hear her voice call me an "ungrateful bitch" again!).

The best was when I asked her for a blender to make protein shakes with and found a WAFFLE MAKER and mix with my name on it.  I had to laugh, as I put it away with stuff I never used.

The foolishness ended when I LEFT THE CULT. 

Finally, I found myself, my back bone and the courage to start asking questions, instead of passively taking crap from people, especially CUNTESSA.

In December of 2010, I asked her why we stopped going to my Grandmother's house for the Holidays. 

Even as I type this, I am shocked at what she said, with a straight face, as if what she did was normal or remotely close to acceptable.  

Ready?

Um, according to Cuntessa, we stopped going because my family gave us everything we asked for that she could not afford. 

WHAT?

Yep.

My "mother" killed Christmas (and every other Holiday) because she was afraid expensive gifts would steal my brother and I's love. 

How PATHETIC!

And SELFISH!

Keep in mind, she does have her very own version of the truth, so I imagine there is more to this story...

Thanks to her warped obsession with STUFF, the Holidays became one big, long nightmare, I learned to get through at an early age.

When I became an adult, things weren't much better, since my mother has no shame in her demands for MORE STUFF (obviously!). 

As a member of THE CULT, I was easy prey for Cuntessa, who was first on my resentment list. 

The steps forced me to make amends to her, which opened the door for her to take full advantage of me over and over. My sponsor encouraged me to be of service to her, which is RIDICULOUS! 

My "mother" LOVED IT.

My last dollar was always spent on Cuntessa's Christmas list, which usually cut into my food budget, not that she gave a damn.

Sure, I had no money for food, but she was happy and, at least I could (hopefully) avoid the rage-a-thons that woman terrorized me with all my life.

THE CULT'S version of the holidays were better than being stuck, alone, with my miserable, mean "mother" and brother; however, not by much. Cold food, obnoxious people and perverts made a weak replacement for FAMILY. 

The marathon meetings suck ass too! 

Eventually, I made up my mind that I would just stay home, where I could block it all out with a good book.

When I left THE CULT, I found myself with enough courage to stand up to my mother and in December of 2010 I flat refused participate in what I now call Debtmas.

Boy, was CUNTESSA pissed!

With glee, I spent the day in my office, writing, while she sulked, cried, and slammed everything she touched. Her hissy fit fell on deaf ears,  while I realized what a pathetic piece of crap my "mom" is. 

For the first time in my life, I wasn't afraid of her, which meant she could no longer control me! *WHAT A GREAT FEELING!*

At thirty-eight years old, my life became MY OWN.

I'LL SAY IT AGAIN: THANK GOD I LEFT A.A.!!!!

Now that I am FREE, I have begun to warm up to the Holidays. 

Although I doubt I will ever participate in Debtmas, I do enjoy a good meal with friends and I will always write the yearly gratitude list I explain in this post from 2010: 

Last year's list was written on paper, since Tolstoy and I were doing the Homeless Shuffle in Asheville and my laptop was out of commission.

Now that I am back, I want to share my 2012 Thanksgiving Gratitude List with you.
  1.  God.
  2.  Food/Shelter/Clothing (the basics)
  3.  Tolstoy (R.I.P.)
  4.  Cuntessa is out of my life forever.
  5.  My true friends.
  6.  My talents.
  7.  My dreams.
  8.  *YOU.*

Yes, I could go on and on. I am truly GRATEFUL to be alive.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE!!!


With Love and an epic Internet HUG!

'Till Next Time,


  



FOLLOW @gogorach on THE TWITTER!

LIKE Go-Go Rach on THE FACEBOOK!

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.
*STINKIN THINKAS UNITE!*


*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.