What Sobriety Taught Me About Living

My rock-bottom moment was not a roller coaster with bright lights or a thrilling movie-like scene. There was no sudden fall, no shouting crisis that said – “this is the end.” It actually came without any noise – a void that was so deep that I could hardly see myself. My life was just a mixture of boredom and inattention. The relationships, self-respect, and also the purpose were all gone. I was not even alive anymore – I was just existing.

Still and all, at a certain point in that vacuum, the change occurred. Through the numbness, there was a tiny crack that I felt and that was just wide enough for a glimmer of hope to filter through. A night of despair and I found Blogs & Articles – ITR. I started consuming story after story about people who had hit rock bottom and yet managed to come back. Their words were telling me – the destruction is a new beginning; it’s not the end.

Drawn by their openness, I entered online sessions using In The Rooms. I took it as someone of the earliest listeners. The idea of switching on my camera and exposing my story was, however, something I couldn’t summon up the guts for. Nevertheless, I perceived voices full of expectation, these were people who once felt as ruined and desolate as me and now they were the ones with the light of clarity and tranquillity. Something started to move inside me. Could I, just maybe, discover the same about myself?

I found myself going to the meetings daily, writing in a journal afterward, and finally, doing things like this gradually helped me build up my routines of taking care of my body, mind, and spirit.

My recovery was not easy at all; it was more a continuous process of changing my ways and giving room to new growth. I came to know that recovery isn’t expected to be always an ideal state; it’s typically a continuous battle of perseverance. There were days when I fell and days when I flew, but, upon all of these, I always went back to the words I said to myself—to never give up.

In sobriety, I rediscovered beauty. I would feel like I was in a church every time the sun would peek in through my window. A silent walk would turn into meditation. Conversations—open, guilt-free, and pretense-less—became my biggest support. I started generating creative products again: drawing, cooking, writing. It was only now, after such a long time, that I could feel and enjoy joy without the need to run away from it.

Sobriety taught me that to live is not about a being in a sun, but rather about being the light in a dark place. I realized that to be open is not being weak but being at the beginning of a relationship. I would expect judgment and doubting the image of perfect me, each time I would open up, rather I found the opposite: understanding and belonging.

The rebuilding process is not simple. There are days on which my fears and doubts prevail. Still, I try to do my best and wake up to a new day. The whole recovery process has made me start seeing the act of resilience as a quiet act of defiance—to keep moving towards a new beginning instead of sinking into despair.

If you are in the middle of your ruins, don’t worry; it’s not the end of it all. It merely provides the right environment for new growth to take place. Giving up and going with the flow will eventually lead you to there where the environment is rich in life. You just have to make that courageous first step towards it.

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 everyone’s voice, ensuring their truth is shared with care and respect.