When Feelings Run Wild : Groups: About 200 people meet to discuss their latest triumphs and traumas in Emotions Anonymous.
Donna tried to kill herself in 1981 by swallowing a bottle of tranquilizers. Four years ago, she fantasized about driving her Volkswagen “off of Topanga.”
Instead, Donna drove herself to recovery. She read a newspaper announcement about a North Hollywood group that discussed emotional problems. “I went an hour early. I was shaking. It was a major effort to get out of the house.”
These days, Donna--not her real name--attends two meetings a week of Emotions Anonymous, a support group for people who can’t control their feelings. Modeled after the 12-step program of Alcoholics Anonymous, about 10 groups in the San Fernando Valley--about 200 people--assemble each week to run through their latest triumphs and traumas.
These are not drug or alcohol addicts; in fact, the organization was established in St. Paul, Minn., in 1971 by veterans of other 12-step programs who felt their specific needs weren’t being addressed in more narrowly focused groups, such as AA or Narcotics Anonymous. According to Marion, one of its Minnesota founders, Emotions Anonymous has evolved into more than 1,600 groups in 26 countries.
“EA can help anyone,” Marion said. “Just because we don’t talk about drugs or drinking doesn’t mean we don’t have serious problems.”
Donna goes to meetings Wednesdays and Saturdays at the Medical Center of North Hollywood. On Wednesday nights, about two dozen people--most are middle-aged--gather for nearly two hours of sharing secrets kept hidden from even their closest companions.
“I feel a greater responsibility to the members of EA than the average person,” Donna said. “The people in my life before EA aren’t in it anymore. There’s an incredible intimacy that’s developed. You get to see inside the person’s garbage.”
The garbage accumulates from anywhere:
George can’t deal with his sense of insecurity every time he fights with his wife. “I feel like I could scream.”
Harold fears he’ll be kicked out of his apartment. “I just don’t know what to do.”
Warren never feels safe. “The only place I feel safe is in my dreams, where I want to be a little boy again.”
And Donna cringes every time she thinks about the sexy negligee her husband probably gave his new girlfriend. “All I can think about is the two of them together. It’s ended my life as I had known it.”
After a while, members become familiar with everyone else’s life, catching a mini-soap opera of sorts.
The meetings are free. All the members introduce themselves by first name only--they deeply cherish their privacy--and the accompanying, “and I’m powerless over my emotions.” Some say their name and add, “I have a neurotic ego.” They shift control of their behavior to a “higher power”--it can be God or another spiritual force--to lessen the emotional burden on themselves. The higher power thus becomes their ally, guiding them to gradually lead happier lives.
“The higher power will help me,” Pam said. “You still have to do your part in your recovery, but you feel you are not alone.”
Though the name of God is invoked, Emotions Anonymous is not a religious organization. “When I came in, I had a terrible time with the God issue,” Allan said. “But I learned that it’s a spiritual program, and doesn’t have to be tied to God.”
Pam often arrives at Wednesday meetings immediately after therapy. She finds the transition quite natural. “This gives me something therapy can’t,” said Pam, 39, who was chronically depressed for years before joining the group. She couldn’t sleep and had constant headaches. “Here, you can connect to what other people are going through. Even if the therapist says, ‘This is happening to other people,’ do you believe him? No, you think you’re the only one.”
For the most part, psychologists support the group, even referring patients. But they caution about potential dangers.
“I do recommend that those in 12-step programs get therapy too,” said Dr. Garrett O’Connor, a Westchester psychiatrist. “They complement each other. But someone in a 12-step without also taking therapy might not get the help they need.”
Pam was worried about the stigma associated with therapy groups. “I had a feeling it might be a bunch of psychotics,” she said, “but then I met a person in L.A. who was in EA and wasn’t psychotic.”
To be sure, Pam confessed, Emotions Anonymous contains its share of offbeat members.
“There are people I like hearing more than others, of course,” she said, “and then there are some where I go, ‘Oh, no, here he goes again!’ ”
O’Connor said Emotions Anonymous, like many 12-step programs, contains many people who will probably never improve. “There’s nothing for a lot of these people anywhere else. They are taking medication, and this, at least, gives them a place to go for a few hours.”
Each member is allowed three minutes to speak. Not everyone does; at each meeting, at least half a dozen remain silent the whole time. Adam, 68, joined about a year ago to confront anger and depression that have lingered since most of his family died in the Holocaust. He said nothing the first few months.
“I just sat there,” he said, “and then, listening to others, I began to admire their courage and honesty. Here were people who were not ashamed to talk about suicide and molestation. I thought, ‘Why don’t I open up?’ And I did.”
Members agree that the meetings are conducive to sharing problems and feelings when nobody challenges anyone’s revelations. In the 12-step programs, unlike therapy, people are not supposed to respond verbally to another person’s thoughts and feelings. They clap, nod their heads and offer words of encouragement, but if Donna wants to hate her husband, that’s her life.
“There’s no one to say you’re wrong,” Donna said. “The therapist has a tremendous amount of authority and power. He has the answer, the fix. But for us in the group, we’re self-centered, and part of being self-centered is needing to be right. For someone to tell you you’re wrong is painful.
“Later on, by ourselves, we’ll see where we are wrong, and that’s when we can really change. I never believed when someone told me I was wrong. I blamed my parents for everything, but I got honest, and realized that they did the best they could.”
Occasionally, though, members break the rule regarding comment. When Donna recently vented her growing frustration with her husband’s extramarital affair, Betty felt compelled to respond: “I know this isn’t going to sound real good to you, but the pain doesn’t go away. It doesn’t get any better.”
After the meetings, however, members feel free to offer advice. They greet each other with long, sustained hugs. They stay in touch through the week, often getting together socially. At one recent meeting, they even made plans to write a letter to a former group member who moved to Washington state.
Most important, they are always a phone call away.
“I was really depressed a few days ago,” said Pam, “and I needed someone to talk to, and I couldn’t wait for a meeting, so I called someone, and it really helped. And I’ve received calls in the middle of the night too.”
Most members attend two or three meetings a week; there is at least one meeting each night somewhere in the Valley. And they show no desire to end their association with Emotions Anonymous. Daniel, who has been attending meetings for 13 years and goes four times a week, said he’ll be involved forever. The group, many say, has saved their lives, and there’s no reason to get out now.
“It’s a crutch, no question,” conceded Allan, “but it’s a crutch I need, and that’s OK.”