I feel like I’m caught in between two realities I don’t quite fit into anymore. Two worlds I have no business being a part of.
An old and a new. A past and a future. And I’m not sure I belong on either side.
The anxiety tonight is intense. The physical pain of the withdrawals is only second now to my anxiety about it all.
I don’t know what I want. I don’t know why I’m doing this. And I don’t even if I can keep doing this.
I just feel so…broken tonight. And incomplete. I feel incomplete. And that doesn’t even make any sense. It’s not a feeling, or something that even means anything.
Honestly, I don’t know what I’m trying to say exactly, and I don’t know how or what I’m feeling. Other than it isn’t good.
My birth sons birthday is in 9 days, I’m doing one of the hardest things I’ve ever done – trying to get sober on my own with basically no help or even talking about it with anyone, and everything just feels so fucking…distant.
Everything is distant. I feel distant from myself. From my present and from my future.
Things are hard right now, but that makes sense. This hard makes sense. This time of year is brutal for me, and I’ve gone ahead and given myself an impossible task in getting sober on top of that.
Why, you ask?
I have no fucking idea.
My therapist last night said it’s probably partially because I’m punishing myself. Yes, I’m doing something “healthier”, but holy shit does it fucking hurt getting there.
I don’t know. I just feel lost. And broken, and hurt, and…alone. I think that’s the biggest thing. I feel alone. And that’s…an impossible feeling right now.
I feel like I’m missing something. A part of myself. I just feel…I don’t know. Just very incomplete.
Tonight has been the hardest night so far. My anxiety is through the roof. I want to self medicate. I want to feel better. Drinking is the one thing I know how to do that will fix how I’m feeling right now, in this moment.
My therapist keeps saying how shocked she is at my amount of control and discipline when it comes to drinking. I have my rules, I stay within them, and I drink an extremely predictable amount every night. Sometimes a little more, but always within the same boundaries I’ve set for myself.
Well, at least that’s how it used to be. Before I decided last week that I should just…stop.
Tonight, I feel caught in between.
Do I go back to my “normal”? My state of being that’s existed for my entire life when it comes to drinking? Or do I continue this new, painfully fucked up path I’ve somehow managed to find myself on?
I really do know. A big part of me wants to go back. To give up. To self medicate and get rid of this fucking anxiety in a way that I know works for me.
But another part of me doesn’t want that either.
So it really just leaves me feeling so freaking caught in between. And feeling very broken. And alone.