Hitting Bottom… and Getting Hit Again: How to Come Back

“Hitting Bottom… and Getting Hit Again: How to Come Back”

There’s this unspoken assumption that once you hit rock bottom, you’ll automatically bounce back. Like it’s some sort of trampoline—hit it hard, launch upward, cue the music, and roll credits.

But the truth is… sometimes, rock bottom has a basement.

You get knocked down, then kicked while you’re down. And then, just when you find the strength to lift your head, another wave hits. A job loss turns into financial strain. A broken relationship is followed by health issues. Grief is layered on top of burnout. And you’re left sitting in the wreckage, wondering not if things will get better—but how you’ll even make it through the next hour.

I’ve been there. More than once.

It’s a strange place to be—the in-between of surviving and completely unraveling. And when you're in that place, people love to tell you, "You'll come back stronger." But no one really tells you how.

So let me offer this—not as an expert, but as someone who's done the crawl out of the basement of rock bottom a few times.

First, feel it. Don’t rush past the pain. Don’t dress it up with toxic positivity. Sit in the mess if you need to. Scream. Cry. Be angry. Be still. You don’t heal what you won’t acknowledge.

Second, simplify everything. You don’t have to rebuild your entire life in one day. Start with today’s breath. Then tomorrow’s breakfast. Then that phone call you’ve been putting off. Focus on what you can do instead of drowning in what you can’t.

Third, anchor yourself to something real. Faith. Friendship. A routine. A purpose. Something that reminds you there is life beyond this valley. For me, it was the quiet moments in prayer. It was the weight of my dog’s head resting on my knee when I didn’t have the energy to get up. It was remembering that just because I’m struggling doesn't mean I’m failing.

And finally—talk to yourself like someone you love. The world will have enough critics. You don’t need to become one too. Speak grace over your progress. Be proud of the baby steps, even if you’re still limping. Celebrate the fact that you got out of bed. That you made it another day.

The comeback isn’t always loud. It doesn’t always come with a lightning bolt of clarity or a Hollywood-worthy moment of triumph. Sometimes, the comeback is quiet. It’s one whispered “I’m still here” at a time.

If you’re in the thick of it—if you’re at the bottom, bruised, and wondering if it’s even worth trying again—this is for you.

You don’t have to be perfect to rebuild.
You don’t need to have it all figured out to start again.
And you don’t have to do it all at once.

Just don’t count yourself out.

The comeback begins in the decision to believe:
This is not the end of your story.

You're still breathing.
You're still fighting.
And that, my friend, is enough to begin again.

—Dr. Nick