When Your World Shatters
I was on the fast track towards killing myself in addiction stemming from grief, and a deep hatred towards God.
Here it is: this was the most pivotal moment that led to my downfall. At 19, I collapsed into a cycle of addiction driven by grief. I suddenly had money, but without any guidance or support—what else could anyone expect to happen?
NOTE: There is someone photo’d above to my right, but it’s not the time to talk about him yet. Stay tuned.
The Phone Call That Changed Everything
On March 20th, 2009 at 2 p.m., I floated out of my last winter-quarter exam. As I skipped to the bus stop, my phone rang. It was my brother, Jeff, who typically never called me.
"Hi, Jiffy. What's up?" I asked.
“Hey! Umm…”
He sounded upbeat at first. Then his voice began to quiver. Within seconds, the shakiness cracked as he sobbed.
"Mm... mom passed away."
WHAT. THE. F*CK. DID. YOU. JUST. SAY. TO. ME?! Undo. Undo. Undo. Command + Z. Escape! Control + alt + delete! I thought. That moment felt as if my stomach and blood-pumping heart were both violently ripped out of my body. My mind went blank. My vision grew blurry. I stopped breathing. Each breath felt like it might make what I just heard a reality.
The pressure in my gut pushed down so hard I collapsed onto the ground, dropping my entire stack of books, study guides, and #2 pencils. My only death grip was to my phone and those three, earth-shattering words Jeff just said: Mom passed away.
Unable to process how unnatural death felt, I quickly began to spiral: What the heck is this? Death? She’s gone forever, just like that? Who am I without her? What is this life I’ve been living, and what do I do now?! What is the point?
“I love you, Jessie,” Jeff said as the call ended. My iPhone screen faded from, “Call Ended” to seeing the “Unread” notification of a missed call and voicemail from my mom that had just come through. I tapped it.
Hi, Jessie. I miss you. Today is Saturday night. I’m going to bed so don’t call me back. I’m doing my best to hang in there, but my skin-hardening [from declining Scleroderma, a treatable but incurable disease causing chronic hardening and tightening of the skin and connective tissues that eventually can cause lung and heart failure] is spreading. Jeffrey is taking good care of me, so, um, what a blessing he is. K, you behave yourself, O.K.? And you take good care of yourself alright? Be a good girl, huh? Be mommy’s good girl, huh? O.K. Good night.
“End of message. To delete this message, press one. To save this message, press two. To replay this message, press three,” said iPhone voicemail programming.
I pressed two.
As I stood up, dazed, the campus bus flew past me (think of that scene from, “Mean Girls”, when the bus flew by Lindsay Lohan after it smacked into Rachel McAdams’s body). I was overcome with despair. I wanted to throw myself into the middle of the street as cars drove by. This cannot be happening. Wake up, and it’ll be all over. Wake up! What the heck, God?! Do you hear me?! I hate you!
That was the first time I ever spoke to God. There was no response—yet.
My previous post shared about how I felt like God failed me:
Shocked, distraught, abandoned, downcast, and heartbroken, I reached a conclusion I’d embody for years to come: There’s no point in trusting God because He either doesn’t exist or won’t respond. Hoping in Him only doubles the disappointment and pain.
Have you ever felt this way? Whether it’s disappointment in God himself, in what He’s given you or hasn’t given you when your desires comes from a God-seeking place, where He has you, where He does not have you? Please share with me below what the scenario looks like for you.
Coping with Our Pain & Brokenness
I wish there was a way around the pain and brokenness in our lives. Mine runs deep, and I’m sure yours does too. Though the particularities are unique to our individual scenarios, most of us are keenly aware of its sting. It seems to cut even deeper when we feel like God didn’t step in to rescue us the way we hoped. When we land in this place, we’re often left with questions that will shape the trajectory of our grief moving forward: What do we believe about our pain—and also—how do we cope with it? What are our options for moving forward if we no longer trust God?
Satan Capitalizes on Trauma
I found a lot of options for coping with the hurt in my life. I’m not saying they were good ones, but at the time, I did not care. I just wanted something, anything, to numb the pain of losing my mom and the many losses that compiled after her death: the loss of my innocence, my sense of control and security, and an overall vision of life that once made sense. Since I didn’t know any better, satan, who’s ancient and clever knew just what to throw in front of me to catch me. he did his part well (intentional lower case “h”). God is not partial and neither is satan.
The most tangible coping mechanisms I initially used were instant gratifications: mindlessly scrolling on social media, binge-watching Netflix, blowing paychecks on online shopping, getting drunk, partying, dating around, and having sex. When those didn’t drown out the pain enough, there were more options available to me: raves, drugs, and more sex, to name a few. Believe me, the list of worldly pleasures are endless. There’s no limit to how far you can walk in deception when you’re walking in the dark. Sprinkle in a load of cash and fancy travels, and these can keep one distracted for a very long time. I was on the fast track towards killing myself in addiction stemming from grief, and a deep hatred for God.
I also tried the meditation route. I found “my center and inner peace.” I sought escape through yoga, crystals, astrology, studies of horoscopes and zodiac signs, and more.
“These will protect you from bad juju and harm,” I was told.
I embraced beliefs that emphasized self-reliance and control, such as “I believe only in myself,” “I don’t need anyone,” and “I am in control.” I thought that by focusing on positivity, practicing mindfulness, and surrounding myself with good vibes and energy, I could eliminate negativity and pain. I chose to believe that the answers to life’s challenges could be found within myself and that I could avoid drama by cutting negative people out of my life. I didn’t realize how much I was being deceived the more I leaned into these thoughts.
These all once felt like great alternatives to God. There is just one thing they failed to consider. One thing still always has the final word: death. No crystal, inner peace, or amount of money can change death’s mind when it decides to have its way. Death does not negotiate. The mere thought of death would shatter any momentary joy the aforementioned ever brought me. Its sobering reality was also the first to greet me when I came down from my highs.
Click below to see where my coping mechanisms left me. I will share more next week on how — JESUS- met me here, in one of the darkest places I could imagine, a halloween rave:
Honest questions for you:
1. What coping mechanisms do you gravitate towards when life goes south?
2. Where do you find comfort and safety if you’re not drawing from the Lord?
3. Are there any unhealthy cycles of comparison, entitlement, and restlessness that you wrestle with?
4. What are some beliefs you have about God that might be stemming from pain rather than what is true?
Thanks for reading and please…
