Rock Bottom

Rock bottom is a place most people like to avoid. It is considered a place no one wants to be, including me. Rock bottom means different things to different people. Everyone’s rock bottom is at a different level. Sometimes we may think we are at rock bottom but there is so much further to go. If we are lucky, and this time I was, we are stopped and/or helped before we hit that point.  

When you go to a physician’s office or the emergency room, they will often ask what your pain level is on a scale of 0 to 10; 0 being no pain and 10 being the worst you have ever felt. Again, this is a range that is different for everyone, some have a bigger tolerance for pain. Emotionally I have been at hovering between a 7 and 9; today I hit 10. I am hurting so very much, but there is a huge difference between this pain and the pain of my past. The difference is I have had to recognize my own responsibility for this pain. Through a series of bad choices I have reached a different rock bottom. It is unlike the pit of depression I have been thrown or fallen into, I got here by myself.

I have made several choices in the last couple of months, many of them were made without thought of the present or future. I chose to put aside healing, put aside my relationship with God, and just settle for bad substitutes. I chose to hide emotions, drift through group, and try to remain numb. When remaining numb on my own became more difficult, I started over medicating. I abused my prescription drugs and started drinking with them. I slept from the time I got home from work until the next morning. I lost count of how many pills I would take in a day. I took my eyes off Jesus and fell into the bottom of a prescription bottle.

During the entire time this scenario progressed I never thought I was losing control. I honestly thought I still had everything tied up neatly and nobody knew the difference. I was so very, very wrong. I felt things start to unravel. People I worked with or spent time with started to ask me if I was okay. My mind was confused and I had trouble maintaining productivity at work. I started to become afraid. I became terrified that I was going to “lose it” or have a breakdown and I would have to admit I needed help. I was afraid of becoming vulnerable. My life was spinning out of control and I had no one to blame but myself.

One night in group I just started to cry. There was not a specific trigger I can recall that started it all, but I could not stop. I told the group how out of control I was feeling and my fear of appearing weak. I was vulnerable in front of others in a safe place. The group encouraged me to take care of myself and make valuable time for healing. They encouraged me to take care of myself. They loved me despite the vulnerability.

I would love to say the rest of the week went well, but by the end of the week I was in a behavioral health center. My facade of control was gone, not a shred of it was to be found. How I finally agreed to go is not as important as the fact I went. It was the last place I wanted to be; however, it was the place I needed to be.

According to Merriam-Webster, rock bottom is defined as, “the lowest possible level or point.”  I then decided to look up the word rock. I expected it to describe a large mass of stone or something similar. The first definition that came up, however, was “to move (someone or something) back and forth or from side to side.” This simple definition changed my view of rock bottom. What if I changed the meaning of ‘rock bottom’ in my heart?

No one is holy like the Lord! There is no one besides you; there is no Rock like our God. 1 Samuel 2:2

I was in the hospital for 5 days. The withdrawal was unpleasant and continued after my release; however, my biggest issue was not withdrawal; it was my attitude. I followed all the rules, participated in group, was cooperative, and did all the things I thought would get me discharged quickly. I put my emotional barricade right back up. I did some writing but nothing was really sticking. I was drifting until my 4th day. I found out that morning that I was not going to be released later that day. Somehow the realization cracked the wall and I started to cry. I went into my room, lied on my bed, and just let the tears of disappointment flow. I had failed.

Later the same afternoon my mother called to check on me. We had a long talk and by the end I was crying again, right there in the main room, in front of everyone. My mother simply had reiterated what my support group and therapist had told me. She encouraged me to accept I was not getting out and embrace the opportunity before me. She told me to “scrape the bottom” and figure out why I was really there. I returned to my room, sobbing, and continued for at least an hour before falling asleep.

When I woke up I really started to write. I wrote down everything I was feeling, good and bad, and about how and why I was there. My husband had brought my Bible but they would not let me have it for a couple of different “safety” issues. I had to reach deep within and remember what I had learned previously and verses I had memorized. I remembered the strength of Jesus; a strength I never had but one he could carry me with. I thought I was at rock bottom, but really I had just found the rock I needed to stand on.

“Anyone who listens to my teaching and follows it is wise, like a person who builds a house on solid rock. Matthew 7:24.

I still have a path to follow, a difficult one. God has laid this path for me and will lead me through. It will continue to really hurt at times but there will also be days of hope and happiness. My choices need to be based on His word and not my own thoughts. My choices lead to a semi-voluntary admission into a hospital. Focusing on God’s choices for my life and having patience to wait on Him, who has always been there, will lead me to His kingdom. There is no comparison.

Be my rock of safety where I can always hide. Give the order to save me, for you are my rock and my fortress. Psalm 71:3