Rock Bottom Survivor

Today, I’m bearing one episode of my lowest lows. This one is a story of a rock bottom survivor. This one isn’t an attempt to gain sympathy or get the empathetic ones to shed a few tears. No, this is to encourage someone who’s breaking or broken from something they cannot fully comprehend or even understand.

My friends would say I have some traits of OCD. I have heard that my space looked like peace, and I loved having everything in order. This one is correct. All mugs must have the same pattern, the kitchen counter must always be clear, and blankets must be folded right, but recently I had this phase where my life was the opposite. I mean, falling deep into this pit that wasn’t bright colors or beautiful patterns. I was losing some part of me.

I had hit rock bottom again. See, I’ve been familiar with hitting it a few times, but I had sunk someplace even deeper this time. I had lost someone again, no, they weren’t dead, but I had decided that moving on from them would be the best decision I would make but not without consequences which included my heart in my hands all over again.

I didn’t get my bed laid in a week, and I didn’t care for anything. There were dirty dishes from 6 days ago; the kitchen counter looked a mess; my hair was in terrible shape. Getting out of bed felt like some painful chore, and on days I couldn’t even find the words for prayer, I’d say, ‘Lord give me strength, please give me strength.’

It’s never easy to think you’re at the end of the brightest tunnel and realize the light you saw was deeper darkness; It’s something, the type of pain I cannot describe to you. I know I once wrote about the pain no one talks about, but rock bottom is different. It looks too scary, and the worst is you must do an excellent job at faking the smile. You doubt everything; you doubt yourself. You suspect the chance that you’ll be you again, happy and in the whole good spirit.

These are the times you realize that the only people you’ve got are God because there are no words for explaining what it is. So, your prayer sessions are just tears and more tears and a one-line for strength. Rock bottom is where we hit when life has taken an unexpected turn. Things don’t look rosy when our hearts break for the ways anymore.

Shout out to everyone who has not been themselves lately but manages to wear a simple smile. Shout out to those who don’t have anything figured out but tend to show up and support others. Shout out to those who have their hearts broken but manage to give love to others. You’re a rock bottom survivor because there’s nowhere else to go than up once you’ve hit that rock.

Say a prayer for those who have tears on their pillows at night. It cannot be easy for those who just lost a loved one or a dream opportunity. Please say a prayer. I wrote this not even sure what I was trying to communicate but maybe let someone know that they’ll be fine. It’s alright if you’re a mess for two weeks.

You’re going to bounce back afterward. It doesn’t matter at all. Just take it easy—one step at a time. Shed the tears when they come. Indulge in some music, get angry but don’t break anything, and after you’re done, forgive yourself, forgive everything, and trust that the sun comes out eventually. Believe and trust in God; you’re not alone. You’re not alone.

This one is written specially to the rock bottom survivor who made it out alive after being held down by all the things that could have killed you. You’re doing well!

Rock Bottom Survivor.