Uncomfortably Numb

I am not feeling grounded. I don't know what I need to do in order to feel ok. I twisted my knee one week after arriving in Lisbon and it was quite painful and debilitating, stopping me from exploring the city as I wanted to, because the hills are so steep and so I had to rest, but didn't. Drinking excessively seemed like a good idea as I managed the pain that way. And drinks are so cheap here in Lisbon it always seems to be a good option.
I spent loads of time at Le Marais, a wine bar owned by a French gay man a stones throw from my new apartment and got to know many people. Trouble was, the place was on my way home from work so I would stop in with the intention of having one glass of wine, which inevitably turned into not leaving to go home to an empty apartment until I was completely inebriated.
There was a loneliness gripping my soul. I would go home and look out my window at the beautiful red rooftops and miss my kids, and miss San Francisco and the community of friends I had there. But I knew that I did this for a reason and I must see it through now. No sooner did the knee heal, very slowly, almost two months later, I joined a gym, finally, to get back to a routine of fitness and get stronger as I had lost a ton of weight due to my knee and not being able to exercise, then I caught a cold. I was blowing my nose for a week and then this turned into an ear infection. I wasn't taking care of myself. I was out when I shouldn't have been, drinking way too much alcohol than was good for me. But how much is too much? I definitely have come to the conclusion that I have a drinking problem. I black out at least twice a week. I am pretty tired of not remembering how I got home. I somehow always manage to make it home though, which is quite a miracle. I lose things, and then wake up angry at myself because I lost that favourite hat or phone or scarf. It has been happening way too much over the last couple of years. Don't know why it is particularly bad or how it escalated. I know it's fucking up my health and it's a dangerous way to live. But I am not stopping, despite my better judgement. Maybe I don't love myself enough to stop this path of self destruction. And now I am far away from family, who always voiced concern and reason and made me stop for a bit and be responsible. Why don't I care? Why the incessant need to be numb? And still not ready to just stop what I am doing. Still not ready. When will I be? What needs to happen? Hasn't alcohol already done so much damage? Fucking hell.
When I lived in California there was always this spiritual thing and talking about chakras and auras and other things about being in tune with the Universe, and then I arrive here and it's all gobbledy-gook to people here. They have a hard enough time just surviving that when you talk about thinking positive and feeling grounded they stare at you as if you're stupid or you have too much time on your hands. I was talking to Paulo, my personal trainer assigned to me at the gym to help me reach my fitness and weight goals and was talking about yoga and needing to feel grounded, and he said people don't have time for that shit here. He said pilates was a fad and had passed and that yoga is simply not widely practiced here. Maybe Californians do have too much time on their hands. Maybe there is no "being in tune with the Universe" and it's all bullshit. I don't want to believe that this is all there is. I want to know that what you put out there comes back to you and really want to believe in energy and positive thoughts, but I am starting to wonder if maybe Europeans just don't think that way because of hardships they endure. Obviously adversity can make you jaded, but when do you put that aside and believe in something to make things better? Am I on a self destructive path? Do I want to kill myself slowly? Do I not believe in happiness anymore? Sometimes when alone I think about my life and wonder what the hell my purpose is here. I can't figure it out and I feel the tears building up inside my chest until they fall out of my eyes and I am sobbing like a baby. I don't know how this will end or if I will ever find what I am looking for. There's a pain inside that just won't let up, enveloping my soul like a thick velvet shroud. I can't throw it off. I was walking to the Pinco Doce yesterday afternoon and stepped on some loose dirt and fell onto my left ankle, the same leg where I twisted the knee. This morning my ankle is swollen. What the fuck? What the fuck is going on? Is there a message here? I have literally not been well since I arrived in Lisbon. I want to change this, but I think I need to change my state of mind first. I will let you of my progress in this area. So far it's not going so well.