When life became too hard to bear, I couldn’t even get out of bed. Anxiety, shame, and exhaustion were the three things that were constantly weighing me down and it was difficult for me to treat the smallest things as a great deal.
I was petrified of attending a recovery meeting in person. I did not want anyone to see the mess that I was. However, the reality was that, after all, I had to stop the drugs from being a pain-killer for me. Then, an internal voice just said, “One more try”.
The moment online meetings came to me, everything else was changed. I was able to take part in the recovery program for the first time without moving an inch from home. There I was, logged in, without my camera on, and my heart was beating fast. No need to feel sorry for myself or make-believe that I was strong. I could just simply be.
In the beginning, my tone was just passive. There were stories of people who had lost everything and had still managed to restore their lives of honesty was as if it were air. Gradually, I became one, voicing the thoughts that I had only barely expressed in my mind: the cravings, the guilt, the attempt and fail routine in the end. And each time I did that, someone would say either “You’re not alone” while nodding their head or typing it in the chat and I would feel the same relief.
Virtual meetings have really saved the day for me because they have acted as my “life-giving stream” to the most extent— that way of motion from isolation back to connection. They used to be my support platforms where I would sit until the right time to feel okay again.
I came to have friends everywhere in the world: there was someone sitting in their car during a lunch break and logging in, another one in a quiet apartment who joined in the meeting at midnight. It was shocking to see that empathy shared in waves across the screens, and that the virtual rooms could be so full of warmth and understanding.
I realized I need to be consistent with these gatherings. I even came to the meetings, even in the days when I wasn’t very well. To celebrate small victories, to listen deeply, and to provide newcomers with hope as others did for me once—that’s what I have been doing through all the meetings. At first, little by little, the addiction was fading away instead of a feeling of not fitting.
Hybrid meetings in my life now, which lets me sometimes attend personally and sometimes via internet- but those early days will never vanish from my mind when I perceived “Joining the Meeting” as connecting to a live-line for a desperate soul.
If you are hesitant about trying an online meeting, please keep in mind that it is not necessary to figure everything out before you show up. Sometimes, the process of healing begins with a single click.
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.
