Bests & Worsts Reviews from Amazon

Fifteen years ago, I sat shaking with a phone book in my hand. I had reached the end of a 25 year addiction to alcohol and I was desperate. I had decided to quit drinking and I knew, or at least I assumed, that I had to go to rehab to do it. I'd heard many times that addiction is a disease so I naively assumed that it was treated like other diseases. You called the hospital and they helped you get better, using proven scientific protocols. So based on this assumption, I picked up the phone book, called a local hospital that had an affiliated rehab, and scheduled an appointment. Since over 90% of rehabs in the late '90s were completely 12 step based, I naturally found myself in a 12 step based program. The main goal of the program was to connect clients to the 12 step community and convince them that the sole path to recovery was lifelong participation in a 12 step group. Its educational component consisted of movies, photocopied literature, and discussions about AA and the 12 steps. We worked steps, and the steps were posted on the wall of every room in the rehab. The sole clinical "credential" of the counselor I saw was that he had been an AA member for nearly 20 years (he did have a masters degree in an unrelated field). In retrospect I should have understood that there was nothing scientific about this experience, but I didn't question it as I might have under other circumstances. It is tough to be an educated consumer when your brain is addled with chemicals; tougher still to question authority when you are beaten down and full of shame as the result of an addiction. But despite what I'd been taught in rehab, I just didn't care for AA. I thought the people were (mostly) nice and well meaning, and I found the social support helpful, but I saw the underlying premise of the program (that the power to recover comes from a "Higher Power"--from OUTSIDE the individual) as being illogical and counterproductive. It seemed to me, both in rehab and in AA, that the focus was more on finding a connection with this outside force than on actually learning skills to live life. This led to a terrible internal conflict. Although I felt a deep disconnect with AA's philosophy, I'd learned in rehab that such thoughts were evidence that I was still sick. They were "the disease talking." So instead of moving on, I devoted myself to the program. I "acted as if": I got a sponsor, I worked the steps repeatedly, I went to meetings frequently (every day for the first two years), I sponsored others, I took on service positions...and I kept waiting for the moment when I'd finally "get it." Days, months, and years of sobriety passed, but that moment never came. It was nearly a decade later--a decade of painful mental gymnastics later--before I finally came to the point where I understood that I wasn't "acting as if," I was living a lie. The truth was that AA was not a good fit for me, never had been, and never would be. I decided to leave, but leaving was tough, almost as tough as quitting my addiction was. Even though the program had never made sense to me, I'd made such an effort at adapting myself to it that it took a couple of years before I could unravel what I really thought and felt. I essentially had to recover...from recovery. This is not to bash AA or denigrate the recovery of those who find it helpful. It is simply to back up one of the many excellent points that Ms. Fletcher makes in this important book: one size does not fit all. Addiction treatment should be individualized. No one recovery pathway should ever, EVER be sold as "the only way." No person seeking recovery should ever, EVER be told that they are hopeless and doomed to die unless they follow a particular protocol. I sincerely hope that anyone who is considering rehab will read this book before making any decision about how to proceed. Making your treatment choice carefully may save your life, your wallet, your sanity--or all three.