The Depths We Reach: My Rock Bottom

My life before was, I just realized now, kind of odd and toxic. No wonder I met people, leave them and they didn’t know what to make of me. I was isolated and extremely internal, just me and my emotions filling up the house. I had traumas – which I know is my responsibility to heal but I didn’t. I’ve spent so long trying to keep it all together, telling myself it would get better, that I just needed to push through, just needed one more day, one more chance. But the truth is, I’ve lost everything I thought mattered. The worst part is, I keep gaslighting myself that I didn’t see it coming. But the truth is I just didn’t want to see it coming. I kept pretending. Pretending like it was all going to be okay. But here I am, staring at the wreckage of my own life at the age of 26, wondering how I let it get this deeper.

All I know is it started with one decision I had to choose when I was 17 years old. Two options with both risks – and yet I still picked the one that will slowly and silently hurt me. Maybe I deserve it. Maybe this is the price for all the mistakes I made after another. One wrong decision, then another, until I was lost without even realizing it. I told myself it was just a rough patch, that I’d figure it out like I always do. But this time, I didn’t. And before I knew it, I was standing at the edge, staring down at rock bottom. The people I hurt. The weeping when I’m supposed to be voicing out. The chances I wasted. The lessons I disregarded. And now, I hit the deepest ground. I fell hard. Back then, I wanted to believe that the universe hates me or I’m just surrounded with toxic people. The second one might be one of the many reasons but it won’t be it. I fall hard, weighed down by the bad choices I make. Every decision seems to come back to haunt me, crashing over me like a big wave I can’t escape. When the consequences finally hit, girl they hit me so hard. Instead of facing it, I found myself blaming someone else or isolating myself.

It didn’t happen with one big crash after another. No, it was more like a series of painful stumbles until you fell and couldn't even walk anymore. Rock bottom wasn’t loud. It was the quiet, heavy moment when I realized that everything I’d been running from had caught up with me. There was nowhere else to go. For the first time in a long time, I finally admitted that I’m scared. Not of failing - 'cause I was already there - but of staying stuck in this pit forever. I thought about all the choices I made that led me here, and I didn’t try to justify them. I didn’t make excuses. I just sat there, staring at the accumulated dust in my wall, and accepted it.

This was my doing. And if I don't do something, I will stay here forever. And maybe this is what rock bottom is supposed to be. A moment where you decide. You either give up, or you claw your way out and make sure you will never be there again.