Lovely Mary pt.3

The Explanation

I want to pause my story to explain a little more who Mary was, and what qualities drew me to joining the group and being under her guidance.

As far the group itself is concerned:

When I was still living in New York, I made friends with a woman named Charlotte, who had just moved from Los Angeles. She joined my then Alcoholics Anonymous home group, Atlantic Group, because it was the East Coast, off-shoot version of her previous home group, Pacific Group. She was a bit of zealot for her group. She would talk all the time about how amazing it was.

She told me about a women’s meeting that happened every Friday night called The Women’s Stag, where one woman would openly share a problem she was struggling with, and she would be given 2 solutions from women in the group who struggled with and solved that problem themselves, and then they would move onto the next problem. I loved how structured, supportive, and intentional it sounded.

She also told me about something called The Yard, which was one of the most iconic Pacific Group traditions. Every Saturday morning, the devoted members of the group would gather at the founder, Clancy’s house in Venice. They would all line up out front, shaking hands in the traditional Pacific Group way as they got on the line, until the gate to the backyard opened promptly at 9a, where members entered in and immediately got to work cleaning Clancy’s backyard, and setting up for the morning of fellowship. The structure of the morning was that for the first hour or so, the women would stay in the Yard and play volleyball and bond, while the men went to the park across the street and played baseball. After the games were finished, the entire group would reunite, and have hotdogs and hamburgers for lunch. Then after lunch, men and women would play volleyball together until it was time to leave at noon.

I heard about a yearly retreat called Mountain High, where every Mother’s Day weekend, every member would travel up to Twin Peaks California for a weekend of marathon meetings, sleepless fun, sports competitions, a play performance, and deep connection with each other. I particularly liked the idea of this because Mother’s Day was always difficult for me since my mom passed away. It sounded like the most healing alternative to that grief.

She told me about how they did a Watch, where they would gather at a diner on the eve of someone’s first sobriety birthday to “watch” them turn a year sober, and 10 seconds ‘til midnight, everyone would shout a countdown, and the moment it struck birthday time, everyone would sing the celebrant Happy Birthday in a loud chorus for the entire diner to hear.

They had something called Couch Commitments- where a homeless newcomer could play musical couches every night at various member’s homes until they got on their feet.

They helped each other with jobs, moving, sobriety, connection, and every area of life.

Pacific Group sounded like a utopian sober community- like a massive family I desperately wanted to be a part of. I was so enticed to join, that I moved clear across the country to do so.

It also feels important to explain a little that Mary wasn’t all willingness tests and undue influence. The thing about her, that makes her, in fact, so lovely is that she presents as having a warm and inviting demeanor. She made sobriety look so attractive. She has an incredible ability to say exactly the right thing when someone needs to hear it. She is so friendly and likable… on the surface.

I remember so many times when I was having a hard time and I would send her a txt, and she would respond in service to me until I felt better.

She had a way with words and phrases. For example, she often said inspirational things like, “Stay tuned for miracles” and one of my favorites that I heard early on, and wrote down on a card I carried with me for encouragement, “Who you really are is a beautiful child of God, whole and complete, lacking nothing, needing no one.” She made hope and magic feel palpable and near.

There were times at meetings where I would be sitting next to her and she would pat my back and leave her hand there for a moment, in the most caring way, as if to say, “It’s going to be ok. I’ve got you.”

She was so protective when it came to anyone else causing me any harm, especially when men were involved. She would give me warnings about the unsafe men in the group, and stand up for me when there was any issue. She was very maternal in that way.

She once paid for me to go on a trip with the group at a time when money was tight for me. When we were standing at the table signing me up, she turned to me and said, “Don’t tell your sobriety sisters.” It made me feel so special and loved. What’s silly is that writing this feels like I am doing something wrong, because I said I never would tell, and if they read this, now they’ll know. Even today, 5 years later, I feel remnants of loyalty to her still in my body.

She had an incredibly calming and supportive effect when she intended to. The reason it was so easy to trust her was because she really had so many redeeming qualities mixed in with all the other stuff. All of this made it possible for a very strong trauma bond to form— I knew that anytime she would be exceptionally harsh with me, that the next day or so I would be met with the pleasant and overly loving Mary that I knew existed and was always holding out hope would make her resurgence.

It’s a common saying in the Cultiverse, “No one ever joins a cult, they join a good thing.”

I joined the Pacific Group, and worked with Mary, because I really felt like it was a good thing. I really believed in the mission: “Our primary purpose is to stay sober and help another alcoholic to achieve sobriety.” I really thought it was the solution to life.

However, what I thought I was joining, and what I ended up with, were two very different things.