I think it is especially true for those of us who began using substances/behaviors to cope in our teens (or earlier) and spent many decades using. It was astonishing and humbling after I (finally) quit nicotine/cigarettes for good to realize I had never felt an emotion or made a decision or basically done anything in my life as as adult that wasn’t clouded with nicotine (and many other substances). I was a child when I started using and not til my 50s was my body mind clear of substances. I remember distinctly that it took at least a year of no nicotine before I felt I had any semblance of control of my emotions or what an emotion actually felt like. Like I could literally feel when my cells were cleared of all that residual nicotine. Fascinating stuff!!
Really love this message, thanks Alisa!!
Love this 
This is 100% true. I’ve had deeper love for my animals than I have for almost every person/relative/partner. And people don’t understand that bond because they have never been in the situation where that love, for that animal, is so deep and pure because they have treated you the best out of your entire wingspan of brethren. 
I’m not super sure that the following post belongs here….and if it should be moved, I hope the mods will put it in a better place.
Tw: talk of sex.
So I have PTSD related to…well a lot of things. But for the purpose of this, related to being trafficked as a teen. I just recently got a Medusa tattoo, which is a symbolization of overcoming a sexual assault. I have not liked sex since….well ever. But I’ve never trusted a man to not a) take what he was wanting, or b) take what he wanted from somewhere else if I did say no. So I’ve just been accepting that this was a necessary evil. But the other day (the day before I got the tattoo) I finally told my child’s father that I don’t like it. And I only do It because I feel like I “have to” to a degree to keep everyone safe.
At first he was frustrated and angry saying I was accusing him of being “just like the assholes” who hurt me. But I told him it wasn’t that I thought of him as the same, just that he was a man, and unfortunately that’s an umbrella that my anxiety puts all men under. And I can, and do, do the mental gymnastics telling myself I’m not in danger and all of the men of the world aren’t out to “get” me. But it’s also exhausting….
He seemed to understand. But even if he hasn’t. I’m just really proud of myself for standing up for myself
And I’m very proud of you! This is as good a place as any to post about these things friend. You’re discussing your mental health right? Let’s keep growing, keep talking about our mental health, keep moving forward. Much love to you 