I think the biggest reasons that I don’t understand or know what emotion I’m feeling most of the time is not only because of the toxicity of my upbringing, but also because my default reaction to everything is anger. Then when I notice I’m angry I quickly try to change it to anything but that emotion.

Like, the moment I feel an uncomfortable feeling that I believe I shouldn’t be feeling I’m quick to push it down. In fact, there are many times if I don’t ignore or suppress my emotions I instantly become numb. And a lot of it does come from the fact I’ve learned, from my upbringing, that any emotion outside of anger or happiness is completely wrong. Thanks to my upbringing I made it a rule that I don’t want to be so violently expressive like my family, because in those “acceptable” emotions I always gotten hurt. Either physically, mentally and/or emotionally.

If I cried or expressed anything that wasn’t blinding happiness I would be reinforced that what I feel is wrong and invalid. To be told I should stop crying because there was no point. To be peer pressured by my own siblings to stop crying and to stop being sad all because “I should be grateful to have what other children wish they had.” To be mocked and ridiculed by my own family over the fact I was “sensitive” and “make it too easy to make fun of.”

A constant reminder day in and day out that all my emotions and thoughts were wrong. And so when I’m starting to feel any emotions I’m quick to avoid it. It have gotten so bad that I would shut down and disassociate. I been doing it for so long that most of my life is a complete blank to me.

I have drank before I turned 21. If I recall, I was with my biological mother at the time. The year I was pretty much proven how easily I can be given up without a care. During my year with a woman that I practically didn’t know, at the age of 11-ish, I did share a beer or two with her and my brothers. She wasn’t the one that offered it. That honor goes to the man who sexually assaulted me, also known as the father of my 3rd brother. But when I came back to New York I didn’t drink.

Yet, on my 21st birthday, the man I grew up knowing as my brother forced a beer down my throat. All in the spirit of celebrating that I was legally allowed to drink. This was the same man that beat me as a child whenever his daughter, who’s 5 years younger than me, would lie about me hitting her. The same brother who “jokingly” held me over the stair railing and laughed, and then say how he “wasn’t going to drop me”. The same brother who was a raging alcoholic and extremely abused to everyone but our parents. My siblings would have fist fights amongst themselves.

Even when I told him I didn’t want to drink, he still forced me to drink. My sisters also have an unhealthy relationship with alcohol. So, it’s clearly no surprised that I too would drink as another form to avoid my emotions. I hate the taste of alcohol. But god damn did it give me that fact sense of joy that was missing from my life.

The only time I no longer care about anything or anyone and just enjoyed. So much in fact that during one of my brother’s birthday celebration, I drank so much and was so out of it I vocally admitted I hated every single one of my siblings and wish they were all dead. But everyone laughed and said how it was just the alcohol talking.

Alcohol was the only time I felt some type of freedom. So much so that I truly felt nothing. And not feeling anything was so amazing that I wanted to chase after it. Making it a challenge to only allow myself to drink once or twice a year. Or to drink on special occasions or I was home. And that alone made it difficult to realize that I fallen for the quick medicine of being an alcoholic.

And as I’m reaching my 2 years sober, I’m trying so desperately not to buy a bottle. Especially after I been working so hard on my health, both physically and mentally. I come so far, but it’s still so difficult to emotionally deal with things.

I still have trouble relaxing and learning that doing “nothing” is a form of self care. After getting so far in the application process for an apartment to then being told it can’t be done was a bigger blow than I could ever imagine. Initially I did get upset. I then tried all the coping skills I been learning, from trying to breathe and taking a step back.

Instead of taking a step back I went numb for a moment. I was in complete disbelief and in shock. After a bit I tried problem solving and thinking of how I would get through it. In other words, I was doing the only coping skill that got me still alive. If I’m busy I can’t feel, if I can’t feel I’ll be ok. What hurts the most about this is that shock just gave me the raging urge to drink again.

I don’t understand what about this moment that has me so desperate for the taste of alcohol. It could easily be that I was already in a rough spot and the news was like a nail getting ready to be hammered into a coffin. Because I at least recognize that sudden rush that I need to not be here. The heavy desire to completely get so lost that when I come back I “might” be able to deal with myself.

Nothing like your whole body suddenly feeling heavy and your mouth and throat become so dry. It’s the kind of dryness one gets when they’re dehydrated and need to drink water. But instead of your brain thinking of water, juice or soda, your brain and tastebuds all scream alcohol. Where it’s like a whole body numbness that can be seduced with drinking. It’s like become so dizzy that when you look around you, everything is a complete blur. Where your nose can smell the alcohol that your mouth can already taste. Where it’s an annoying buzzing noise whispering “just one sip. One sip and I won’t drink anymore.”

But the part that gets you, and is the reason you’re frozen in place, is because you know that voice is lying to you. Has much as you can practically feel the cold liquid sliding down your throat, it’s a struggle to remind yourself that you went down that path and there was nothing for you there. Nothing like fighting the urge to drink by remembering all the guilt that happens when you drink. The guilt of having no control. Knowing yourself well enough to know how badly you want to jump into on coming traffic. Reminding yourself how, even though those thoughts became a whisper, you can still hear the desperation to end yourself. And you know what’s going to turn bring those thoughts screaming with vengeance at the forefront? Drinking!

It’s so hard to be sober when I still am not able to deal or even feel my emotions. Because god damn do I want drink till I can’t remember my name. I want to forget everything. But I fucking can’t! All because I’m trying to heal and do better for myself. But oh how much a good round of fireball sounds perfect right now. Yet if I touch that I ain’t going back.

If I do drink, then all my progress would be for nothing. I would have to start all fucking over again. I don’t want to do those 6 months again. Nothing like that first year of being sober where I realize how often I really drank. Nothing like every 2 to 3 weeks, without fail, I had to sit with myself and fight the urge to walk into a liquor store.

I think I’ll be ok, for now. I know I’ll be ok after the urge steps aside. But oh boy, it’s gonna be a lovely week.