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I miss the days when I would just write, raw and unfiltered. A pouring out of imprisoned emotions that would only be freed when the alcohol impaired my frontal lobe. The words would come out in a flood. The relief of finally being released. The onslaught on any bystander could be brutal. The onslaught on myself would take me into the depths of despair.

In the following days, I would remain rooted in shame with the reminder of my words. Words were the only tangible reminder of those moments. The memories were void, enshrouded in darkness. Slowly coming out of that space, I would gently fold the feelings back in and lock the door. What would remain in the open and was available was the self-blame and hate for my own existence. The one thing I could control.

In the depths of despair, at least I was feeling something. I was not numb and roaming comatosely through the days. At that time, alcohol was the precursor to feeling. I would allow myself that. The goal was never to get obliterated, but to release the confines just a little to let an emotion escape. To give myself permission to feel. To let the person out that was not shrouded in anxiety, fear, mistrust, and insecurity.

The person that showed up started with being the fun one, the jokester, life of the party. Slowly morphing into the bully, making crude comments, being defensive, and overly emotional. Once she morphed into her final form, it was then the waiting game until she could return to her initial shape. Though she would not be the same as she was before the night started. She would add another lashing and carry the scar of more shame, self-blame, disgust, and hate.

The cycle served its purpose. Release emotions, feel them at the intensity exponentially related to the time they were locked away, experience shame for feeling them, assume blame, and quickly lock them away again. Never processing, just expressing them.

This pattern did not happen every time I drank, but it did happen enough to affect the relationships that I value. On the day that I am writing this, I am sober for 7 months and 12 days. I do not hold my emotions deep within anymore. Locked away behind the walls of shame. I am trying to understand them and process why the patterns of thought were there in the first place. The emotions do not feel as intense because they are being seen and heard when they are first felt. Although there are days when the despair and overwhelming sadness just appears, and the only way out is through letting them pass.

The transition to being sober has also been a readjustment to the levels of intensity that I feel. The dopamine released while drinking is 1000x what your brain would normally release without the drug. Although I am feeling emotions, and I am no longer numb anymore, they sometimes feel muted. As if I am watching through a haze. The difference is not subordinate to the experience on alcohol. It is just different. Requiring recalibration for my expectations on what an intense emotion feels like.

Life as a whole is exponentially better knowing I can trust myself and those that I love can also trust me. A scar that remains is the wound that I inflicted on those I love. The responsibility they felt to pick up the pieces and also let me go through my process on my own timeline. I was fortunate enough that they did not shame me or leave me. That they remained to show me I am worthy. That bond and love kept me tethered to reality.

My story is not one where I hit rock bottom and lost everything. I was quite literally like most of us. Days off were for having a few at a restaurant or hanging in the backyard or a glass of wine to wind down at night. Once a quarter, having too much and getting out of hand. Functional, social, acceptable, fun. Except the layers of shame kept building. The damage to relationships, the mistrust for myself. The hamster wheel of refusing to feel and using alcohol as a way to simultaneously numb and feel.

The decision to quit drinking has made my life better than I could have imagined. I am beginning to trust myself. I feel that it is safe for those I love to trust me. I am feeling emotions at the appropriate intensity. Small mistakes do not always make me feel that my life is better not lived. The shame has vanished. I remember my life and am present in the moment. I do not say yes when I want to say no. I love myself and I am safe.

The difference between this time and the past times I “quit” is that I am examining the reasons why I was drinking. What alcohol was providing for me. The benefits that rewarded me. Feeling comfortable in social situations, connecting with others, pride, confidence, and a way to feel. Examining the benefits alcohol was providing allowed me to have a starting point in rewiring my brain and focusing on experiencing those benefits through other means.

Instead of needing a drink to feel comfortable, I just do not go if I do not want to. Connecting with others by nurturing real relationships that can be remembered. Learning to love myself and feel and process emotions through therapy, journaling, and mentorship. At first the change was uncomfortable, but it was not impossible.

My story is not over. Most days I do not even think of having a drink, but some days I do. On the days I do, I play it forward and it is clear it is not worth the possibility of feeling the shame. I am grateful for the purpose alcohol served in my life, but its protection from reality is no longer needed, so I released it.

Continue pondering..