Any time the idea of rock bottom is mentioned it is usually met with “well at least you can only go up from there”. Which I guess in a sense is true. However, I think we often don’t consider that rock bottom is not like a roller coaster. It’s not like you’re just down for a moment and in a split second skyrocketed back up to joy and ease. Rock bottom is a place that feels like it is from deepest pits of hell. An inescapable valley of pain, misery and hopelessness. What if its foundation is like a mud…. meant to keep you stuck and trapped?
Have you ever tried to hike a steep mountain? Now imagine doing it when you’re already exhausted physically, mentally and spiritually. You’d probably take one look at that mountain and say “Nope, I don’t have it in me to do that.” Thats exactly how hitting rock bottom feels. Absolutely impossible.
My husband and I recently discussed how we feel we have officially hit our rock bottom. I hit mine mentally last fall, emotionally in February, relationally in June, physically in July, and financially in August. It really felt like the devil was playing dodgeball with 1000 teammates and I was the sole target. One hit after another, and I just could not regain any strength before another one came flying at me. But now it’s September. The air is finally starting to cool down to a crisp 90 degrees. I am officially in my second trimester with our second daughter, and I feel like I can kind of begin to breathe again. The layers of pain are still there, but I can feel the seasonal depression melting away. Things feel more manageable.
I think the key in building strength to escape rock bottom is not in sitting there and just telling myself I have to do it. It’s in letting my body rest without being stagnant. It’s in taking baby steps. It’s in recognizing that maybe the way out is a slow incline. The goal is not to reach the top the fastest. The goal is to make it out alive. Each day feels different when you have suffered from depression, anxiety and abandonment. Some days you convince yourself that you could run a marathon, others you wake up and can barely get out of bed. Each one is valid.
It’s important to believe in yourself when it comes to climbing out of rock bottom. It isn’t that most people don’t care, but more so that they don’t notice because they are too busy with their own lives and problems. They too are probably just trying to survive. More importantly though, its important to remember that your strength is God-given. I often need this reminder.
God knows us…. deeply. He knows our hearts and desires and passions. He knows our pains and hurts and the things we are too afraid to utter aloud. He did not forget to wake you up with breath in your lungs. He did not forget to give your legs movement and your brain activity. Even in the midst of our pain when it feels like God has forgotten and abandoned us. He hasn’t. And I know you’re probably thinking, “okay so this is really easy to say and yes I know it but how can a good God allow the pain I’ve endured?” I have wrestled with this exact question more than I can even begin to describe. Last December when I was in the deepest pain of my life I was so angry with God. I yelled at Him…. a lot.
How dare you let me experience such loss when I’ve been obedient to you!
How can you claim to love me when all you have done is watch everyone in my life who “loves” me break me down and walk all over me with no remorse?
I still have days when I question why God would allow the pain He has. I don’t fully understand it. I know the textbook Bible answer – God gave us free will and therefore the world has evil that we will naturally be subjected to. But there is no comfort in that. However, if we reframe our perspective on the situation, we can find hope in the pain. We can find purpose.
For example. I am absolutely not the same person I was a year ago. Both in good ways and in unfortunate ways. I have lost a lot of my joy. I have struggled more mentally with anxiety and depression than I ever have in my life. No other time in my life have I had to fight so hard to find the will to live each day. No other time in my life have I learned to mask my true emotions to the point where I feel like a sociopath because I can’t properly express emotions like joy and gratitude. It feels like a play. Yet, in the exact same circumstances, I had an epiphany. I woke up from the hypnosis that was my life and saw the slew of patterns that had shaped me. I said “no more. I am standing with integrity.” I broke generational curses. I chose differently for the family I created. I grew a backbone balanced with grace and truth. I take full accountability for my actions and learn from those experiences. I do my best to limit emotional reactions and outbursts. I am different for the better because of that pain. And as a result, my children will not be subjected to the pain that I have had to endure, because I did the work to change the course of our family. I make the sacrifices that will *hopefully* (as much as a parent can) prevent my daughters from going to bed feeling isolated and unloved in the home they came from.
So while yes, this has been the most painful experience of my existence, I would do it a million times over if it meant giving my children a better life and our family a better legacy to carry on. There is so much wisdom to be gained in our painful experiences. So in a way, when we have hit rock bottom, it almost feels more rewarding to take our time healing properly as we make our way out. The slow incline is not desirable. Some days it may feel like regression. Yet, in it, I know I can balance a life where I can recognize my need for change, take things one step at a time, and praise God for the changes He has made in me through it all.
The Grace-filled Home 