For years, I went on thinking I was beyond any kind of fixing. I withdrew into my shell, trying to convince everyone else, including myself, that I voluntarily isolated. My room was my fortress and my prison. I told myself that I was “recharging.” In an ironic way, I was really cloaking myself - from pain, from rejection, or from life. Ongoing whispers filled with shame would scream, “You’re not worthy of love. You’ll only hurt people or be hurt again.”
Days passed me by like a blur - wake, scroll on the phone, sleep, and repeat. I forgot how the sun feels upon my face. I forgot the feeling of conversations that went beyond digital screens. Out of my heart, the deepest longing was for connection, but I didn’t even know how to start.
Then there was a post written on one of the forums nightly at random. I read each story as if it were a small flashlight in the darkness - real people who had struggled, isolated, yet finally coming together again with hope. Their words nudged me to do just one small thing: get out of my room and go to an online meeting.
The First Time
The first time I joined I never said a word. I just listened. People from all over were sharing, coming straight from their hearts. One person talked of loneliness, another of a relapse, yet another of forgiveness, and each story felt as though it was meant for me. I was not broken: I was just human. Humans heal through connecting.
So after that I decided it was my new practice to get out of my room every day. On some occasions, this simply meant a short walk outside. Other times, it meant going to a meeting, smiling at a neighbor, or sipping coffee with a support buddy. Gradually, the walls I had built started crumbling away.
How Healing Came
Healing did not come through isolation; healing came through showing up. Being seen and seeing others. Each day I would reach out with a text, a share in the meeting, or a chat in the park, and each day I grew more alive.
Today, still, I have my quiet days, but I don’t just disappear into isolation. I sometimes remind myself that connection is medicine. Getting out of the room is not just a physical act, but a spiritual one.
If you feel broken, please reach out. Step outside. Attend a meeting. Let someone see you, hear you, and hold space for your story. You are not beyond repair; you are human, and humans heal together.
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