30 Women Are Sharing How They Got Out Of A Rut

30.

“Back in 2003, I went through a horribly rough breakup, the kind of breakup that required a two-and-a-half-week stay in a women’s shelter and a restraining order. Kicking that abuser to the curb and out of my life for good was for the best, but there was still a lot of emotional trauma and grief to process. I had lost a lot, and one of the hardest losses was my relationship with his two kids, who had been a part of my life for over seven years and whom I loved dearly. I fell into a deep, dark depression for three years. I was drinking way too much. My self-identity had been shattered, my hopes and dreams had been blown to smithereens, I felt like an utter failure, and nothing mattered anymore.

“One day, I realized that I had reached a point where, if I continued down the road I was on, I would become an alcoholic. Then, it hit me: Every day that I sacrificed to crying and moping and drinking too much was another part of my life that I gave up to the abusive ex. That realization triggered something inside of me at a very visceral level to rise up and say, ‘No way! Not a chance! No friggin’ way am I going to let that happen!’

“Instead of continuing down the road to alcoholism, there was another path that I could take. This wasn’t me being strong; this was more like me being stubborn and ornery and struggling to salvage together something — anything — that looked like a life. So, I sat down and made a list of every little thing that had ever made me happy, no matter how small, no matter how goofy. This took awhile, but when I was done, I read over my list and noticed that very few of these things were still a part of my life. Granted, some of these things, such as playing with my little sister’s Barbies, were rightfully consigned to the long-lost shades of childhood, but other things — like hiking, camping, reading, going to church, drawing, playing piano, taking random road trips, swimming in a creek or waterfall, adventuring with my dog, chatting over coffee with a good friend, dancing, traveling, etc. — were just gone, for no good reason.

“It’s like I was looking at a long obituary of the happiness in my life, happiness that I had allowed to fall by the wayside and die off. And that — right there — was the moment that I decided to take my life back. 

“It wasn’t easy. The drinking and the depression had been my closest companions for a long time, but now, I had a plan. I started with one small thing, one tiny sliver of light that I could wrap into my life and lock onto when the darkness overwhelmed. Then, when I was ready, I added another. Then another, and another, until one day, I was looking at me again. I was whole. Not perfect, but whole. 

“This was a long road — a long stretch of living in a dysfunctional relationship, followed by three years of depression, and then, at least another three years of climbing out. A long road, but a worthwhile one, because of what I learned along the way. 

“This is what I learned: Anyone and anything that diminishes me — my wholeness and my happiness — does not deserve a place in my life. Zip. Zero. Nada. Now, if you will excuse me, my dog, my water bottle, and I have a date with adventure. See ya!”