superhero complex

Why do we have to actually hit rock bottom to hit rock bottom?

There’s so much information out there—good information, too—on whatever it is we want to know: saving money, creating the life of our dreams, getting healthy, having wonderful relationships, and so on. We should just be able to not have any problems in our lives, because honestly, we know what the solution is already. And the solution is generally pretty simple: eat right, exercise, save money, spend time with our loved ones, physically do the things we want to do. Invest in ourselves and our dreams and our own physical, mental, spiritual, financial health.

So why do we have to get to the point where we’re crying all the time, so unhappy, and hating listening to ourselves complain, but not doing anything about changing it until life gets so intolerable there’s no other way to fix it but by intentionally fixing ourselves, little by little, from the ground upwards?

And after we do that and we know how wonderful it is, why, no matter how much we scream, can we not save people from themselves?

I’ve written about hitting rock bottom before here: https://www.lesliemcadamauthor.com/blog/2020/1/18/rock-bottom

Short story: my rock bottom was being strip-searched in a mental hospital because I was suicidal. From there, I decided there was no place to go but up.

But the key in recovering from my rock bottom—and where I am today—was the decision I made.

A very intentional decision.

I hated how I felt (and had been feeling for months and months, possibly years), and I DECIDED at a root level of my being that I was not doing that ever again, whatever that was. I wasn’t feeling that bad, wasn’t ever allowing others to dictate my life, wasn’t getting to the spot where I woke up and had no idea why my life looked nothing like what I wanted it to look like. I wasn’t letting the difference between my dream life and my actual life be so vast that they weren’t even on the same planet.

As part of that decision, I took responsibility for the way my life was going. I realized that my life was a certain way because I’d let it be that way. I hadn’t designed the life I wanted. I’d let things that didn’t matter to me crowd my time so that I had no space to do what I actually liked (specifically, my dream of writing).

And after I made the decision to get better, I was patient with myself. Because I was clinically depressed, it took a while (about eighteen months), but I created the life I wanted. For real.

My life got better not only in creative expression, but also as to my mental, physical, and financial health. I’m still a work in progress, but I look around now and think, yeah, I like this. I like the way my life is headed. I created it this way. I intended it to be this way.

I’m happy. Deeply and sincerely happy.

But the problem with becoming happy, like becoming sober, is that I see friends of mine who aren’t doing so well. Who are self-sabotaging their success, health, finances, well-being.

And I want to run in and save them.

Please note that I’m nowhere near perfect. I still have plenty of things to work on and create. The key point is that for several years now, depression hasn’t even been in my rear-view window, it’s so far back there. It’s not chasing me. I’m just generally happy. And if I’m not feeling good, the emotion (anxiety, worry, anger) is mostly temporary.

I’m free, completely free, from depression, and have been for years.

I’ve thought of it this way. While in my months of recovery, I put up bumpers going down the bowling alley—medication, therapy, exercise, meditation, and so on. I needed some help to stop throwing gutter balls. Now, though, I’m strong enough to bowl without using inflatable padding to keep me from going off the rails. My throws may not always be strikes, but my bowling ball is headed down the alley properly, and I have the confidence to know I don’t need to go back.

In feeling so good, I want my friends to feel as happy as I do. I want them to actually do the wonderful things they want to do with their lives. I want them to grow and thrive—to stretch their wings and fulfill the insistent voice in their soul that tells them they are here for more. That they can create something beautiful, different, helpful, fun. That they can spend their days feeling good, not bad.

But they don’t. And I can’t live their lives for them. I can’t help them realize they actually are allowed to live the tremendous lives they want so badly in their hearts.

It saddens me, because I see them so beautiful, and yet I also see them depriving us all of their gifts. It’s like they are afraid of success.

I don’t see this only in the creative world. I see it in business (which I also think is creative). I see people who could do better not letting themselves do it. It’s like they’re stuck in this vision of themselves that’s too small, but they don’t know how to allow themselves to be big. (I see it because I used to do it.)

I also see it with friends and their health. I’m not one to preach. I’ve made plenty of bad health decisions. But overall, I’m so much healthier than I used to be.

I wish I could tell my friends:

You are beautiful.

You deserve to be happy.

You deserve to spend your days doing the things that bring you joy.

You don’t need anyone’s permission to go for it.

You can stop sabotaging your own health, success, finances, and happiness.

You can take the leap. I will support you. I will love what you create or allow in your life.

That you can be so much more than you are.

I’ve found, though, that sometimes these are just words, even though I feel them deeply. That I can tell these to my friends, I can tell them to value themselves, to take their talents seriously. To love themselves enough to take care of their bodies and finances. That they don’t have to undercut themselves in any way.

But they hear them—and then they don’t.

And I’m afraid just hearing it isn’t enough. I wish it were. I wish I could keep them from having to go physically, literally, through their rock bottom, because rock bottoms suck. I wish they didn’t have to lose everything—health, money, heart, soul, happiness—before they turned their lives around. I wish they didn’t have to hang out in the pits when I know they can soar.

But I can’t do it for them.

I wish they could make the decision to just get better, like I made the decision to just get better, but without having to get naked in front of a nurse in a locked room, as she inspected my body for signs of self-harm and contraband.

Maybe that’s just a wish, though. Maybe we do have to go through it—feel our lowest point—and make the conscious, real decision that we’re not going down there ever again.

In superhero stories, the superhero comes in and saves the day. The innocent victims in distress gaze at the superhero and say, “Thank you for saving me.” And then we presume they go about their happy lives.

I want to be your superhero. I want to be the superhero of my friends. I want to tell them, show them, that they don’t have to suffer the pain. That they can just go to the joy of self-fulfillment and happiness.

But in my life, there was no superhero. Or rather, I was my own superhero. I had to make the decision to get better. I was the one who did the work—who went to therapy, who tried various exercise programs, who said no to demands on my time that I didn’t want to do, who started taking my personal finances and worth seriously.

Maybe there are no shortcuts and no superheroes, because the only people I’ve met who are as happy as me are those who have hit their own rock bottom and built their life from that point. They have lost everything and now they’re living their lives on their own terms. It’s not perfection. But they have created an intentional, happy life—and they generally crow about it to anyone who will listen. They’re the ones full of the good advice we don’t take when we’re not ready to hear it.

So, what’s my point?

I wish my friends didn’t have to get worse before they got better. I wish they didn’t have to hit rock bottom.

But in a weird way, I wish they would hit rock bottom sooner, rather than later. I have to say that carefully. I don’t want anyone to get hurt. I don’t want people to get into trouble. But I do want them to get to the point where they wake up and say, no more. I’m not living this way any longer, and I’m going to take the time each day to steer my life in the direction of my own happiness. I’m not going to let anyone or anything stand in my way. I’m not waiting for a superhero. I’m doing it myself.

Trust me. If I can do it. So can you.

And to my dear friends, I believe in you. I want to see you soar.