Kat's Rambling Mind

“Don’t burn your bridges behind you”, the old saying goes.

I disagree. Sometimes the brightest light can come from the flame of torching the link between yourself and things that are causing you harm, and that light can lead you out of the darkness.

I know this because almost nine years ago, I did exactly that. I got rid of addictions, entanglements, and even possessions. I had been in an incredibly dark place for a long, long time, and a stark new beginning was the only way I could think of to make anything better for myself.

You see, my life had definitely not turned out the way I thought it would by that point in time. I’d always assumed that I’d find love, fortune, security, happiness….but it was 2016 and I had none of those things. I was gripped by panic and a sense of failure that I couldn’t escape. Crippled by chronic depression, I had long been abusing alcohol and prescription pain medication, but hadn’t admitted as much to myself yet.

I don’t think I have to tell any of you how that worked out.

But as I sat there at my kitchen table on Memorial Day weekend of 2016, I took a long hard look at my self, and my life. Failed relationships, a failed business, failing health (alcohol abuse also contributed to those failures)…I felt that there was only one logical solution to my multitude of problems: I would end my life. I saw no light anywhere.

The disarray in one’s mind at a moment like that is terrifying. As I tried to think and couldn’t, I quietly laid my head down on the table and closed my eyes. My thoughts were spinning, my heart racing, I couldn’t breathe. I just wanted everything to stop.

I suddenly heard a loud voice say, “GET UP.”

Now, I know what you must be thinking. Hearing voices? Sure, okay. But I bolted upright, startled, and looked behind me. Was I hallucinating? Maybe. Was that voice just in my head? Perhaps. To this day, I still have no earthly explanation, but I prefer to think of it as an epiphany. While I had told myself I was finished with God, apparently God wasn’t finished with me.

It was around 5:00 AM. I picked up the phone, dialed my parents number, and my mother answered.

“I need help”, I said. Nothing else.

“I’ll be right there”, she replied. No questions asked.

I spent the next three days in the psych section of the local hospital. I was evaluated, diagnosed, and prescribed a medication regimen for the depression. I had terrible experiences with antidepressants in the past, but I swore this time things would be different. I vowed to myself that I wouldn’t give them up this time. I also vowed that I would stop drinking and abusing pain medication, in addition to quitting smoking. I was determined to kick everything.

It was upon my release that I started staying with my parents. I couldn’t bear to go back to my house; there were too many painful associations there. The house was entangled in foreclosure proceedings, and I couldn’t bear to deal with the shame of that. I realized I had essentially drank my life and my home away, and that was incredibly painful. Also, as I sobered up, I was taking a deep look at my past behavior, and I definitely didn’t like what I saw. I realized that alcohol had made me into a horrible person.

And so, I started over. I burned every harmful bridge I could think of, and I started again at the age of fifty-one. I was keenly aware that I had been given an opportunity that only a few might receive. I had the luxury of a family that supported me every step of the way, including providing me with a safe space in which to recover. I slowly began to see some light around me again.

After a couple of years, Dad’s health began to fail, and it became clear that Mom needed some help taking care of him and the house. Nine years later, here I still am. Dad passed in 2021, and now I help Mom in different ways. I often wonder (and smile) at how things have worked out. Am I the “Loser Who Lives With Her Mom”? I don’t think so. I feel genuinely blessed to be able to spend this season of life with my mother, and to take care of her in some of the same ways she has always taken care of me. (Granted, she may feel differently, but maybe not.)

And while I still may not have a traditional life that most women have at sixty, I have a life that fits me. A sober, reflective life, with a good job, surrounded by good people. I attend church and have a simple, grateful existence. All because of two words–“GET UP”–and a match that I tossed into the disarray that was my life. I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I feel that I definitely found the light.

If you’re having issues with drugs, alcohol, or your mental health, please know that help is available. Below are some resources that may help:

https://988lifeline.org/contact-us/

https://www.aa.org/find-aa

https://nationaldepressionhotline.org/