I'm Not A Loner

I've had a people phobia for a long time. I used to describe myself as a loner. I had convinced myself that being alone was a preference; a choice a made for myself: I choose to be ALONE. If I maintained the thought that I just liked being alone, I would not have to face the fact that I was uncomfortable with me which caused me to be uncomfortable around other people. Really, I was afraid of being around people- it was an actual anxiety inducing fear. Throughout a large part of my twenties I had a stutter. I would become so nervous during a conversation, even a normal, no thrill kind of chat with someone I knew, that I would stutter and mix up my words. The humiliation I felt was incapaciting, so much so that I shyed away from talking very much, especially to new people. It was easier to isolate than it was to feel dejected.


I had countless reasons to alienate myself- most of them stemming from my childhood. Some of the experiences I had as a child filled me to the brim with pain and fear. Being a child, I lacked the skills to effectively deal with some of the things that went on; nor did I have the intelligence to grasp or comprehend their impact. All I knew is that I was worthless, stupid, powerless, unimportant, and that I deserved the bad things that happened to me. I believed what I was told as a child and unfortunately, continued to not only believe them as an adult, but employed behaviors that compounded all of those negative beliefs. I have to really work at ignoring that nasty little voice inside my head that says, "You don't belong. Nobody likes you. You have nothing desirable to offer. You are fucked up and broken. Everyone will leave you." How can anyone stay sober with that kind of crap running amok in their thoughts? How can anyone feel worthy when every thought is self-defeating? And I know that the thoughts are crap. I know that they are not true. I know that they are part of a programming that should have been cancelled long ago. But sometimes it is so hard to make the choice to not listen to them; to not let them get to me. Some of those thoughts are so deeply rooted, I'm not even aware of their presence until they have already manifested in my behavior and an action/reaction. They are insidious. They keeping me from enjoying life. They keep me from myself- who I truly am- a good, kind, capable, honest, and intelligent person.

Staying sober is the most effective defense I have against unnecessary, parasidic thoughts; thoughts that have plagued me my entire life. Using alcohol as a means to help me feel more comfortable with myself and more at ease around other people was the worst thing I could have done. It didn't diminish the fear or the self-hate, it exacerbated it. I thought that drinking helped to silence the voices and to forget about my fear of the future and the pain of the past, but I see now how fleeting it's efficacy was. It numbed me as long as I was consuming it; which is probably why I felt the need to constantly and consistently consume; and maybe why I almost always consumed until the point of being completely incapacitated. It's hard to think or focus on much of anything when you're fall down, sloppy ass drunk- except maybe getting another drink! That's how I was when I drank- it was all about the alcohol. It really wasn't about where I was, what I was doing, or who I was with- that was surface stuff- which was part of the intention, but the real intent was to drink; that's what kept me captivated. My drinking had progressed to the point that I became embarrassed over how much I drank and how I behaved after getting tanked.

Alcohol served to alienate me even more than before. I would drink to feel worthy of being in the company of others and then drink so much that the next morning I was mortified by things I did or said, or just the fact that I was a drunken lush and that these other people saw me and what they must think of me. I wanted to die! I see now, however, that no one on earth held a lower opinion of myself than I did. Drinking made everything worse. I didn't like myself when I drank and I drank all of the time. I had no clue who I was. Drinking kept me from having anything useful to counteract the poisonous perception I had of myself. Alcohol took away the opportunity to know myself or my life as anything different than what it was or what it had become as a result of my drinking. It took away the chance for anything better to exist.

I am so grateful to be sober and to be where I am right now- right here, in this moment. I am so grateful to other alcoholics that have passed on tools of wisdom so that I may have a more fulfilling life. I don't ever want to go back to where I was- and I am so grateful that I don't have to.