Are You Living — or Anaesthetising?

Most of us think of anaesthesia as something chemical.

Alcohol. Drugs. Medication.

But what if some of the most powerful anaesthetics don't come in a bottle?

What if they look completely normal?

Working constantly. Scrolling for hours. Shopping when you feel empty. Needing someone to text you. Chasing attention. Jumping from one relationship to another. Obsessing over someone who gives you very little. Competing with other women. Needing to be the prettiest, the youngest, the most desired. Chasing sex, status or beautiful company because of how it makes you feel about yourself.

None of these things are automatically unhealthy.

The question is why you need them.

There is a difference between drinking because you enjoy a glass of wine and drinking because you don't want to think.

There is a difference between wanting love and needing someone's attention to reassure you that you matter.

There is a difference between enjoying being desired and needing desire to prove your worth.

There is a difference between admiring another woman and silently believing that her beauty somehow takes something away from yours.

Sometimes we keep ourselves so stimulated that we never have to encounter ourselves in silence.

And sometimes even love becomes an anaesthetic.

The waiting. The butterflies. The uncertainty. The breakups and reconciliations. The message that finally arrives after hours of silence. That enormous rush of relief when the person you thought you were losing suddenly wants you again.

We call it chemistry.

Sometimes it is.

But sometimes we should ask a more uncomfortable question:

What don't I have to feel while I'm feeling all of this?

Perhaps that is one of the quietest problems of modern life.

We have created a thousand ways not to feel.

And when distraction is available every second of the day, sitting quietly with loneliness, fear, rejection, insecurity or uncertainty can feel almost unnatural.

So perhaps sobriety is bigger than not drinking.

Perhaps there is another kind of sobriety.

Emotional sobriety.

The ability to experience yourself without immediately reaching for something — or someone — to change how you feel.

Not because pleasure is wrong.

Not because we should stop drinking, loving, shopping, having sex, enjoying attention or wanting beautiful things.

But because there is freedom in knowing:

I am choosing this because I want it. I don't need it because I'm afraid of what I'll feel without it.

So I will leave you with one question.

Don't answer it quickly.

What is your anaesthetic?

Because in a world offering us a thousand ways not to feel, perhaps choosing to truly feel is one of the quietest acts of rebellion.