For most of my life, I have felt running to be a matter of survival. When it got uncomfortable for me, I ran-from places, from relationships, and from myself. Each new city or situation offered me a chance to begin anew; but inside, I was still carrying the same wounds, the same guilt, and the need to escape. The running took different forms, such as the use of substances-another way to dull the pain, mute the thoughts, and achieve a semblance of peace, albeit fleeting.
At the beginning, it worked really well. If I drank or used drugs, I could forget about that persistent guilt and lonely feeling stranded by it. But soon enough, my escape became my trap. Now, I was not just escaping my problems; I was running away from my life. Each hangover and broken promise, every lost opportunity adds up to the very weight I am trying so desperately to outrun.
Something, this day, just shifted. The day went on without anything dramatic happening in the atmosphere, it was calm. I had just relapsed after having some few months of sobriety. I entered an In The Rooms meeting, frantic and terribly ashamed. My camera was off, and my hands shook while typing, “I can’t keep running.” Somebody in the chat replied, “Stay. Let us hold you.”
These words somehow formed a crack in me. I sat there, just crying, realizing how long I had been seeking connection but never letting it in. And that was the moment I promised never again-to run, to numb, to hide. I decided to stay.
Staying has not been easy. Some days, the call to escape still whispers to me, asserting that it’s better to disappear than to feel at all. But I have come to know that the journey of recovery begins with staying-at facing what hurts while others walk with me through that pain. I give myself to opening up in meetings with raw honesty, no matter how messy that truth sounds. I call others when the cravings hit, instead of pretending that all is well. And every time I resist the old unconscious urge to run, I grow a little stronger.
When life feels heavy today, I take note of that realization, breathe, and remind myself, “I stay.” Staying is all about choosing recovery, over and over in any given moment. It is the struggle for trust to restore itself within me again, while learning that I don’t have to do it by myself.
If you’re reading this now and thinking about running, don’t; stay. Stay where you are; stay in your feelings; stay in your healing. Let someone hold you the way I was held. You’re not broken; you are becoming whole.
Editor’s Note: If you’re looking for more support, inspiration, or stories that speak to your recovery experience, we invite you to explore our Blogs & Articles section. Stay connected with the In The Rooms community on Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and twitter for daily encouragement, real voices, and reminders that healing happens one moment at a time.
We share real recovery stories while protecting the privacy of those who trust us with their experiences. Many personal details are adjusted or rewritten for clarity and to honor each individual’s voice, ensuring their truth is shared with care and respect.
