Chasing Strength: What I found in the Ashes of the Storm
Two years ago, when I faced overwhelming emotional pain, I spiraled in ways that felt impossible to recover from. I chased relief through alcohol, public meltdowns on social media, and desperately sought validation from people who couldn’t hold space for me. But this time was different. Last week, I stood alone in a courtroom, representing myself in the final hearing of my divorce. With my autism and ADHD pulsing under the surface, with only one hour of sleep and adrenaline surging through my body, I faced one of the hardest days of my life. And the crash afterward was just as brutal. When the hearing ended, when the injustice hit—the financial strain, the emotional stripping, the feeling of failure—I spiraled into the lowest place I’ve ever felt. I wanted to disappear. I wanted to stop existing. My nervous system collapsed under the weight of it all. But this time, something was different: **I knew what was happening inside me.** I learned recently that when the body experiences extreme stress, adrenaline floods the system to survive—but afterward, dopamine depletes rapidly. That depletion triggers despair, exhaustion, and emotional shutdown. **This wasn’t weakness. This was biology.** But what I chose after the crash—*that*’s where the story changed. I didn't reach for alcohol. I didn't open social media and bleed my emotions onto a public page. I didn't reach out to unavailable people. I didn't chase empty validation. **Instead:** I called a crisis line. I let my best friend and someone new to my life show up for me. I asked for hugs instead of hiding. I cried—but I stayed. I chose life. I chose to hold on. **The timing wasn't an accident.** My dopamine fast—a 40-day detox from old coping mechanisms like alcohol, social media, energy drinks, and emotional escapism—ended just days before this storm. Without that fast, without that preparation, my crash would have been so much worse. The fast wasn't just about breaking habits. It was about **training my nervous system to stay through discomfort** without running. The storm came—and I didn't chase dopamine. I chased strength. I chased staying. **Faith: My Anchor Through the Storm** Through all of it, my faith in God was the anchor that kept me from being swept away completely. When I cried out in pain, I remembered the promises of Scripture: - *"When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you."* —Isaiah 43:2 - *"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."* —Psalm 34:18 - *"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."* —Philippians 4:13 In my darkest moments, I wasn't alone. God sat with me in the pain. He didn't take the storm away—but He strengthened me through it. In years past, I would have tried to outrun the storm, believing I had to save myself. Now, I know I am held even when I am hurting. I know that the valley is not the end of the story. Just as David cried out to God in his distress, just as Job sat in his sorrow yet refused to curse God, just as Jesus Himself wept in the Garden—I am learning that faith is not the absence of fear, but the choosing to believe anyway. **Healing isn't linear. It’s messy, painful, and sometimes it feels like drowning.** But today I can say with certainty: **The storm didn’t win. I did.** — *Growth is not the absence of storms. Growth is learning to plant your roots deeper when they come.* I'm still chasing dopamine—but now, I'm chasing the kind that comes from truth, connection, resilience, faith, and grace. And I'm just getting started.
