I’m Not at Rock Bottom — But I Remember Her
There’s a heaviness I’ve been carrying lately.
It's not the kind of rock-bottom weight that knocks you off your feet completely — not this time. But it's still heavy. It still hurts. And it still makes me pause and remember the woman I once was when everything actually did fall apart.
And strangely, remembering her gives me strength.
The Quiet Struggles No One Sees
Lately, I’ve been navigating the impossible tightrope of trying to find work that aligns with my life — not just any job, but something that doesn’t steal away my nights and weekends, something that allows me to be present for my kids, their sports, their school, and all the in-between moments that matter more than most people will ever understand.
It’s not easy. In fact, here in Colorado, it feels almost impossible. I know people who have been out of work for nearly a year. I know what it’s like to apply, to hope, to hear nothing back. And I know what it feels like to look at your bank account and feel like your worth is somehow tied to what you can contribute financially — even when your heart knows that’s not true.
My husband works so hard. He provides, and I’m so proud of the life we’ve built. But that doesn’t stop the creeping feeling that I’m not doing enough. That maybe I should be doing more.
And then add in trying to buy a house, uproot our lives to be closer to my daughter, navigate parenting teens, and still show up for my healing, my goals, and the women I support?
It’s a lot. It’s been heavy.
This Isn’t Rock Bottom — But It Feels Familiar
What gives me perspective in moments like this is the memory of the woman I was at my lowest. The one who didn’t think she’d survive. The one whose pain felt permanent. The one who almost didn’t make it through.
I remember her. And I honor her.
She clawed her way back from the darkest place. And if she could do that, then I can do this.
If you’re in a season where you feel like you’re failing — or like you’re holding everything up by a single thread — I want to say this to you:
You’re not weak because you’re tired. You’re strong because you keep showing up.
Our Mental Health Matters
One thing I’ve learned through all of this? Our minds are powerful — but sometimes, they’re liars.
They’ll tell you you’re not enough.
They’ll whisper that you’re a burden.
They’ll convince you that it’s always going to feel this hard.
But that’s not the truth. That’s the trick.
We have to recognize when our minds are spiraling into negativity and gently — even if it's messy and imperfect — bring ourselves back to the light.
What Helps Me When My Mind Tries to Pull Me Under:
Gratitude journaling — even if it’s just three words.
A quick walk in the sunshine, even when I don’t want to move.
Affirmations in the mirror: “I am safe. I am worthy. I am doing my best.”
Boundaries — saying no to things that drain me so I can say yes to what fills me.
Talking to someone who reminds me who I am when I forget.
Letting myself cry without shame.
Remembering how far I’ve come.
You’re Not Alone — And You’re Not Done
If you're reading this and your chest feels tight, your eyes are heavy, and you're wondering how you’ll keep going — please know: you’re not alone.
And you’re not at the end.
You might be in a chapter that feels foggy and uncertain, but the story isn't over.
In fact, this might be the very chapter that, someday, gives someone else the strength to rise.
So breathe.
Pause.
And remember: you’ve done hard things before. You can do this too.
With love and real talk,
Christina