So this is a strange turn of events. Not only have I been completely sober for nearly 3 months but I’ve been going to therapy for about a month now. I find this odd as I am pro-drugs and anti-therapy. But life has a way of challenging your beliefs.
I’ve always been prone to anxiety. It’s likely just part of my temperament being an introvert, but being picked on all throughout my life all the way up to high school certainly didn’t help. Becoming a recluse at age 10 didn’t help either. Playing thousands upon thousands of hours of video games plays into it surely. I didn’t really start socializing until I started work at age 18. I still think I suck at it now, but I’ve had plenty of practice so it’s a little easier. But never easy.
I started experimenting with drugs at age 21. First with pot, then ecstasy, Salvia, mushrooms, LSD. I tried coke a few times and heroin once but those weren’t my thing. I liked psychedelics. I could take a large dose, close my eyes, and I’d be transported to alien realms. Figuratively of course. But certainly nothing you can experience in your everyday normal existence. It took me until about 3 months ago to realize I was addicted. Not to any one particular substance, although I did smoke pot daily for a decade, but just addicted to not being here. Not being present. And now I’m paying the price. Because all I want to do is be here and it’s too fucking difficult now.
Hence therapy. At least I finally succumbed and decided it was needed. And it scares me (pretty much everything does) but I’d rather be scared and alive than dead and nonexistent.
I don’t know how long it’s going to take before I start feeling “normal” again, if it’s even possible. My brain has been through the ringer. I just hope over time and with work that life becomes easier. Because this shit is getting old.