Rising from rock bottom

Exactly five years ago, the Young Blood column published a short essay my past self titled, “An oath to me.” It wasn’t the best piece I’ve written, but it was one of the bravest ones.

It sprung out from a time when I stretched my boundaries to the limits or even tore them down for other people. My life was on autopilot because I lost control of where I put my time and energy in. It was an important checkpoint of my growing-up years – my lowest of lows, my rock bottom.

Quarter-life crisis

It was the year I turned 25. I didn’t reveal much about it back then – to be vague is to be less vulnerable – but I was surviving on mostly low-paying gigs after investing my life savings in a venture that never panned out. I took a leap into the cash-strapped world of freelancing; I lost touch with close friends; I had my first major heartbreak. I ticked off all that was expected of a quarter-life crisis.

And yet, though broken and broke as I was, I mustered the courage to tell the world that I was going to get back up. It’s a classic fake-it-till-you-make-it stunt, but I wasn’t just delivering a presentation to a prospective client or attempting to ace a job interview. I was trying to survive. I wrote those words, and I needed to believe them so I could pull myself out of the deepest, most painful rut I had ever been.

When the piece was published, it made this simple note to myself more real. When strangers and friends alike shared the essay about my most personal experience, I took it as a sign that I was not alone. I felt braver and more determined to pick myself up.

Then I finally opened up to my mom, the last person I would want to bother with my young adult woes. “I don’t want to be stuck in this anymore. I just want to move on,” I remember telling her in between sobs of despair. “Then do just that,” she said as if it was a blessing or a permission slip that I didn’t know I needed.

Breaking free

All the small steps that I took from then on were all about moving forward and keeping my promises to myself. I found gigs that brought back my passion and people that I enjoyed working with. Some acquaintances turned into kindred spirits, and a few lost connections were rekindled. A new friend thought I should meet one of his guy friends because I reminded her of him. I gave it a shot and now we’re together in a loving and meaningful relationship for almost five years.

I wouldn’t have believed it if anyone told me at 25 that I’d have all these in five years. Now at 30, I’d still find myself doubting if I deserve any of these. My antidote to the guilt? I know I worked so hard to keep my boundaries intact and put my values and myself first. So yes, I did have a hand in the life I’ve built and the person I’ve become. I deserve this.

At 30, my worries have become vast and varied but whenever I feel a little discomfort or when I have anxiety attacks about the future, it helps to look back at how far I’ve gone from hitting that rock bottom of my quarter-life crisis. I’m grateful to my past self for rooting for us, and for believing that we have what it takes to overcome any adversity.

Permission slip

If you’re ever in a similar rut, take this as your permission slip: You can move on and chase the dreams and ambitions you’re born to do and be. You deserve nothing less than true love and genuine respect. Turn your life around; I’m sure your future self will thank you for it, too.