Cults and the Human Experience

On why I completely understand that girl who was measuring the electromagnetic waves coming off of Mother God’s dead, blue foot.

There are a couple of new cult documentaries in the zeitgeist right now - the Mother God one and the two about the Twin Flames Universe. Popular cult documentaries always lead to popular discourse about how anyone could possibly ever join a cult!?!? 

I must admit, it’s particularly tough to palate the idea of worshipping the slurred rantings of a woman who sells pumpkin spice candles on facebook live to support her habit of guzzling booze and colloidal silver. But I honestly can understand why people joined the Love Has Won cult. I also understand why people stalked strangers because Twin Flames Universe told them to, and I get the appeal of Scientology, Nxivm, People’s Temple, etc.

I personally have found the human experience to be a bit of a trial! You know, the depths of joy and sorrow that come with life’s impermanence, the inexplicable existence of evil, the reality that the people who are meant to love us often hurt us the most, and Santa “not existing”…. it’s a lot!

So, it makes perfect sense to me that people try to add reason and control to these basic facts by committing themselves to the deranged beliefs of one individual who claims to have an answer for it all! Whether that answer involves a woman getting sexlessly impregnated with our lord and savior, or a woman drunkenly communicating with Robin Williams and Q (of Anon Fame) - I get it! 

When I was twenty years old, I also believed I had finally found the answers to everything. I had done the unthinkable. I had transcended from ROCK BOTTOM (getting wasted in college…?) and gotten SOBER (with every resource imaginable at my disposal, but still). I had gone from broken to fixed, from bad to good. And ya better believe I felt superior about it. CUE: SOME HEROIC WHITE GIRL ANTHEM!

Most of my decade in Alcoholics Anonymous was spent as a member of a group that openly refers to itself as better than other AA groups because of its strict focus on “the solution”. This group has dress code requirements and unofficial leaders and other practices that, in my opinion, actually go against the original traditions that alcoholics anonymous was founded on.

The way the twelve steps were communicated to me within this group, or at least the way I perceived them, had a huge emphasis on the selfishness and essential brokenness of the alcoholic. I was told I was sick, but that the twelve steps were a cure. I was directed not to trust my own thinking, and to ask myself, on a daily basis, where I had been resentful, selfish, dishonest or afraid, whether I owed an apology to anyone, if I was keeping any secrets “which should be discussed with another person at once”, “was I thinking of myself most of the time? Or was I thinking of what I could do for others, what I could pack into the mainstream of life?” I began this daily practice at age twenty, and continued it for almost a decade.

For someone with my OCD and childhood attachment injuries, it was easy to believe that without following a very specific regime like this, I would slip back to being that disgusting, shameful slut who got drunk and sloppy enough times to strike utter terror in her parents’ eyes. I didn’t ever want to be her again. I hated her! And I was excited to make amends for all of HER behavior if it meant people would like and accept me again! 

So I did it all - I admitted I was powerless, I tried to build a relationship with God, I wrote multiple “sex inventories” and “fear inventories” and made amends to soooo many people, for drunken infractions like peeing their bed or stealing their beer. I had multiple sponsees, whom I told how to live their lives from my superior position at age twenty-one, living in my parents’ apartment in Tribeca. I even attended the national convention of alcoholics’ anonymous and got in a fight with my also-sober boyfriend in the convention center parking lot!!!!

I met many of my most cherished, best friends in AA and learned how to ask for help, how to be present at parties with no substances in my system and how to talk to people I don’t know. I became more reliable and accountable and overall, a kinder and less insecure person.

But ten years later, right after my thirtieth birthday, I was just as confused as the Love Has Won girls after Mother God didn’t come back to life. I wasn’t thriving the way I thought I should be as someone who had undergone a spiritual awakening at such a young age. I was still sober, a proud member of not one, but TWO twelve step programs, but I found myself going through yet another awful breakup with yet another man whose love I couldn’t seem to earn. I didn’t understand why I was so unhappy, so unlucky in love!?!?! Where was the joyous, free life I had been PRAYING for and so RIGHTLY deserved for choosing to go from bad girl to good girl? Hello?!?!?!

And so, last year, I drank again.

And ya know what, IT DIDN’T GO VERY WELL! Can you even believe?!?!?! Many unfortunate events followed, including (you guessed it) YET another dysfunctional relationship and messy breakup. I made a lot of mistakes, I hurt people that I love, and I experienced a lot of shame. But I’m actually okay!

It has often appealed to me to categorize every uncomfortable, disappointing or embarrassing moment that has happened since as part of “a relapse” or a “mental breakdown”, to write it all off and label 2023 as a “just a bad year”. I have yearned and even attempted to call out to the world that I can make amends! I can re-earn my worth! I can cleanse myself and be different again! But thanks to therapy, a lot of love from friends and family and a lot of self-searching that I’ve had the privilege to do, I no longer believe that my worth can be defined by any one choice that I make.

Today, I choose not to drink because it doesn’t work for me and I can’t seem to do it the way other people do, without serious emotional and physical consequences. I also choose not to go to AA anymore. Both of these choices may change in the future and that’s okay.

2023 was not “just a bad year.” It was… just another period of time, scattered with moments of intense pain, anger, and sadness, and also moments of sheer joy, understanding, growth and laughter. I got two cats this year and I love them so much it hurts, in the best way. I started EMDR therapy. I also got drunk and I got dumped and I sent my ex-boyfriend unhinged text messages with screenshots of Taylor Swift lyrics. I disappointed my family and friends and I also learned to believe that I deserve their love anyways, as long as I try my best to love them too. I enrolled in school to finish my college degree, I got a new job that I love, and wrote a lot of things I’m proud of. I went on some fun dates and some truly horrible ones. I got a lot of tattoos that I don’t know yet if I’ll regret.

2023 is the year that I learned how to look back on my most shameful and painful moments, and to tell myself - you were doing the best you could, and always, no matter what, you are worthy of love. I love you.

…… and in that sense, Love Has Won ;).