I wanted the floor to swallow me whole...

I recently experienced a social occasion where I felt so uncomfortable the entire time, I wanted to run or be swallowed by the floor. There were people I didn't know and people I'd met once, some were drinking and some weren't. I think that if I'd been drinking, the anxiety that grew the entire afternoon leading to the occasion, might have been suppressed so that I too would have been able to relax and make banter and breathe and converse naturally instead of feeling the most awkward I can remember ever feeling. If I'd been drinking, maybe I'd not have felt absolutely self conscious of every word and movement made. Maybe I'd not have been so affected that I clear forgot the occasion was in celebration of two peoples birthdays, not one, and maybe I'd not be sitting here now asking myself who am I now in a social setting without alcohol.

Hours before the event, I imagined buying a flask of vodka and secretly swigging a gulp or two before entering. I'm glad I didn't but I wish I hadn't attended at all. Now I'm left with a whole lot of wonder around why it was so damn hard. I wonder if I'll ever be able to attend social gatherings where others are drinking and feel okay. Will I ever learn to fit my skin comfortably and mingle with, meet and chat with people easily while sober.

When the event was over, I locked myself in the bathroom and cried. I was embarrassed but also just sad that I'd been incapable of enjoying myself for one freaking minute. And I worried that I'd ruined other peoples night by being so obviously uncomfortable.

When I used and drank, I could handle almost any situation. Sometimes I'd truly surprise myself just how well I held myself though some. I could usually gulp down or breath in some confidence-by-chemical and talk to anyone anywhere without breaking a sweat. I love being sober and I certainly don't want to trade it for a night I'll most probably not be able to piece together come morning but I do want to learn how to overcome the overwhelm of anxiety and crippling shyness around meeting new people in a social environment where simply chatting is required and drinking is not an option.

Fear & Vulnerability

It's been three months since I've written here. Putting sentences together is difficult when being honest is hard. I'm full of fear, fragile and bursting with a thousand thoughts. I don't know where to begin to make sense of the fear I’m feeling but I know I'm desperate to snap out of it. Accompanying this fear is a low mood, sleepless nights, headaches, worry and loss of appetite. I'm unsure if I'm burnt out or depressed or both but whatever I am, I considered drinking today. I considered relapsing my 261 days of sobriety away just to feel different. I must stop thinking that the things I'm struggling with and the things I'm feeling aren't valid or worth addressing, because this is where I end up, this place I can't name.

I tend to compare my struggles with something absolutely extreme in order to minimize my pain or  other feelings until what I'm struggling to process becomes small enough not to matter. One year of weekly appointments with a therapist earned me this insight. For example, earlier today when I felt full of fear and realized where the fear was from, I reprimanded myself for being ridiculous, I told myself to stop being stupid, I told myself my feelings meant nothing compared to a young Nigerien refugee escaping with only her life after her village and parents burned to ash...I'm reading The Other Hand by Chris Cleave, the novels main character is a young Nigerian refugee whose village and family are burned to ash.

Where is this present fear from, what am I trying to make small ?...It can't be compared to a young woman witnessing the brutal murder of everyone she knows and loves but it is taking its toll...I am afraid of being hurt. Entering relationships while in recovery isn't recommended but six weeks ago, I did. With complete confidence, I threw all caution to the wind and began to wholeheartedly fall. I've been falling ever since. It's been fun and exciting and for some of it I've felt safe but now...now I'm out of my mind with fear. Last night I lay awake convinced he doesn't want to be with me even while he slept with his arms around me. I lay there believing that while he is with me he's thinking of and wanting someone else. There is nothing he can say or do to make me trust him and there is nothing I can tell myself this moment that makes me feel any less terrified. It's impossible for me to trust him naturally, I have to choose to trust and that is where this fear is from, right there in the possibility, in the risk of being hurt.

I need to learn how to be vulnerable. Brene Brown become famous for her Ted Talk on Vulnerability. She describes vulnerability as uncertainty, risk and emotional exposure. She encourages people to be vulnerable..."to let ourselves be seen, deeply seen, vulnerably seen...to love with our whole heart, even though there's no guarantee...to practice gratitude and joy in those moments of terror, when we're wondering can I love you this much ? Can I believe in this this passionately ? Can I be this fierce about this ? ...just to be able to stop and, instead of catastrophizing what might happen, to say..."I'm just so grateful, because to feel this vulnerably means I'm alive."... But most important, is to believe that we're enough, because when we work from a place, that says, I'm enough, then we stop screaming and start listening, we're kinder and gentler to the people around us, we're kinder and gentler to ourselves."

So...as always, witting has helped me empty my head of the tangled mess my thoughts become and focus on whats truly got me. I am afraid, but I'm also deeply in like with a man I want to know better. If I end it now because of fear, I will regret it, so I'm deciding to be brave and practice vulnerability. I'll need to work hard not to run with the stories that form in my head...stories that tell me I'm not good enough, not smart enough. I want to love and be loved so I must start believing I'm worthy of it.