As I have been writing my first book, a memoir about the last two years, I have been thinking about the moment that I hit my own personal rock bottom, and also what hitting rock bottom can mean to different people.
To some people, hitting rock bottom means immense emotional pain. It means suffering, it means heartache, it means loss. It means isolation, and loneliness. It means feeling alone.
To others, rock bottom might mean learning. They may see it as an opportunity for growth, for healing, for change. They may take it as a sign that something needs to change in their life, and they find themselves resonating with the idea that “nothing changes if nothing changes.”
While I wish I could have seen my pain as something to learn from all along, for me in the moment at least, rock bottom meant pain, and a lot of it.
I couldn’t see past my pain. All I could see was red. Everything felt intense, flooded with emotion, and I felt broken open and raw. I hated the vulnerability. I hated feeling weak, and more than that, I hated being seen as weak.
Looking back, those moments I spent at rock bottom were the most sacred and necessary moments because they set the stage for eventual healing, growth, and change.
Society says that the things that are deemed broken, or that have dropped to the ground, or that are in pieces are worthless. They will never amount to anything again. They are to be thrown away and discarded. Society often deems people that are what we consider to be at “rock bottom” as being worthless as well.
Here’s the thing though, rock bottom can also be where the light gets in. Broken pieces allow for light to come through. They allow for change. They allow for movement. They allow for things to be picked up by new people and new forces and be made new again.
Dare I say that rock bottom can be the most beautiful place someone can end up? Rock bottom is not only a foundation to rebuild a life, it is a place to inspire, help, and give hope to others.