P.S. - post-sanctuary

Vanessa Gillier
Apr 13
7 min read

How hitting rock bottom was the best thing that ever happened to me.

My first week in rehab was a difficult period of contempt. I thought that being in a place designed to help would automatically lift my spirits and give me a fresh start. Instead, I felt more overwhelmed than ever. The days were filled with group sessions, where I heard others share their struggles. While I wanted to relate, I felt immense guilt and self-loathing as, in my mind, I was the villain in their tales.

I found myself thinking about all of the pain I had caused my loved ones, which only deepened my sadness. It seemed like everyone else was making progress, while I was just stuck in my head, replaying my mistakes. It was tough to see people making strides when I felt like I was slipping backwards. Each day ended with a heavy feeling, leaving me wondering if I really belonged there.

As the week continued, I realized that this process was going to be much harder than I expected. The routines in rehab, while meant to help, sometimes made it feel like a prison. I missed the isolation and cocoon of my life back home, and the ability to numb the pain and shut it all off, despite the chaos that came with that. Every time I had a moment to think, I was flooded with memories of the past - the things I had done and the people I had hurt. I even started to question if rehab could really change anything for me.

I felt stuck between wanting to get better and feeling completely unworthy. Though I was surrounded by people who understood depression, I often felt completely alone in my journey. I wanted to believe in the process, but my mood seemed to dip lower as the week progressed, creating a sense of hopelessness that was hard to shake off.

But by the end of the week, I reached a fork in the road. I had a choice to make. Stay on the destructive cycle I had always known and suffered on, or forge a different path. Though the week had left me feeling more depressed, it also opened my eyes to the realization that healing isn’t always a straight path; it can twist and turn with peaks and valleys. With each passing day, I began to gain more insight as to how I had reached so low and was consciously making space for healing and self-worth.

While I still felt heavy-hearted, I began to understand that feeling sad was actually a healthy part of the healing process. I needed to let myself feel all of the emotions instead of obsessing on the bad and shutting down the good. My peers shared their own low points, and it finally clicked for me that I wasn’t alone anymore. I started to realize that being open about my struggles was the only way I would be able to truly heal.

By the second week of treatment, I began to see things in a different light. It was like a switch flipped in my mind. I realized that my recovery was not just something I could leave to the therapists or medications. I had a huge part to play! And this is when the true journey began for me.

I learned that showing up for myself each day was as important as any treatment modality. Honestly, I started to appreciate the simple, small steps I could take. Every choice I made, whether it was getting out of bed early for yoga, joining a support group, or simply being kind to myself, became a vital piece of my healing puzzle. It was empowering to understand that I had the power to control my path forward.

Having this new perspective helped me feel more in charge, which was a refreshing change. I noticed a shift in my mindset. Instead of thinking of treatment as a series of things happening to me, I started to view it as a journey I was actively participating in. This meant setting goals for myself, finding ways to stay positive, and being accountable. A nightly journal helped me track my feelings and progress. Writing down each day’s challenges and victories motivated me to stay focused on my goals.

It wasn’t always easy; some days I struggled more than others. But every little victory added up. I began to celebrate even the smallest achievements, like drinking enough water or getting a good nights rest. One win a day was the goal. And these small wins were reminders that I was moving in the right direction. They proved to me that my commitment was key to my progress.

As I continued with my treatment, this realization became even more important. I found strength in being responsible for my recovery. There were many resources available to me, but they were just that – resources. The real action had to come from me. This thought made me want to dig deeper and find the motivation within myself. This commitment to my recovery journey has taught me that it’s not just about the destination, but also about embracing every step along the way.

A month into treatment, I really started to see changes in how I viewed myself. Before, my thoughts often felt heavy, and I used to focus on everything I thought was wrong with me. But gradually, my self-talk began to shift. I started recognizing the small things I liked about myself. I remember standing in front of the mirror one day, and instead of criticizing my appearance, I found myself smiling at my reflection.

It was like a light was turning on, illuminating the parts of me that I used to overlook. This newfound positive self-talk helped me gain confidence. I felt lighter, almost as if a weight had been lifted. It became easier to face the day with hope rather than dread, and that was an important change.

Reflecting on my past also changed during this phase of my recovery. Instead of seeing all the mistakes I made or the regrets I carried, I started to view my experiences as learning moments. Appreciating the journey rather than getting bogged down in the negativity allowed me to see how the events of my life had shaped who I am today, more resilient and stronger, but with more room yet to continue to evolve.

Every setback became a story of personal growth. This shift in perspective gave me a greater sense of control over my narrative. Instead of a victim of my history, I felt like an author outlining a new chapter. This realization filled me with hope for the future, where I could focus on building a life I truly wanted.

When I completed my last Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation (TMS) treatment, I was given a questionnaire to complete about how I was feeling about myself, my life, my future. I had completed the same questionnaire as part of my arrival intake, but I had no recollection of it.

During my counseling session with Alex the following week, she revealed the assessment scores from the two questionnaires, and the results were astonishing. Upon arrival, my Beck’s Depression Inventory (BDI) reflected a score of 41 – Extreme Depression. Following my last TMS, my BDI score was 2 – indicating No Depression.

As I looked ahead, my feelings about my future transformed fittingly. The dreams I once thought were unrealistic began to seem more possible. I no longer felt paralyzed by self-hatred. Instead, I imagined all the wonderful things I could do and achieve. It's like I started to see a world full of opportunities instead of walls closing in. I had only set small goals, but with each tiny achievement, my belief in myself grew stronger.

The future felt exciting, not scary. I felt empowered to pursue my dreams, whether they were big or small. The journey from rock bottom has opened my eyes to the potential waiting for me, and it's so inspiring to feel that spark of hope. With each passing day, I find myself more curious to see what tomorrow brings.

Upon my return from treatment, my primary focus was on mending my relationships with my family. During my time away, we communicated routinely, and I knew that it was going to take some time to regain their trust. I had much to amend for and so very much to be grateful for. One by one, I was able to share, and listen, and repair.

The conversations were sometimes tough, but I approached each one with an open heart. I apologized for the pain my past actions had caused, and I made it clear how much I valued them. Slowly but surely, this effort to reconnect not only healed our family bonds but also helped galvanize members of my family to pursue their own opportunities for growth and healing.

Along with working on my family ties, I also wanted to find a purpose in my healing journey. In treatment, writing became a form of therapy for me; the blank page turned into a safe space where I could express my emotions freely. I described the challenges, the victories, and all the little lessons learned along the way. I began this blog where I have chronicled my campaign with complete transparency. It has helped me to sustain my resolve and continue to practice the skills I learned while in treatment.

As an added bonus, I discovered that sharing my story could help others who were experiencing similar struggles. Every time someone felt inspired or comforted by my words has fueled my purpose. I realized I was not alone in this battle when I was at The Dawn. The community and connections we cultivated opened my eyes to the many ways we could help each other heal, together.

This new direction has given me strength and reminds me that every setback can lead to an opportunity for growth and connection if we are willing to do the work. My determination to share my journey from brokenness to healing continues to flourish as I pursue new outlets for creativity. With inspiration from the Japanese philosophies of Kintsugi and Wabi-Sabi I am reminded that perfection is not the goal in life. Instead, it’s about finding beauty in what is real and authentic. The stories woven into each reflect the hope that emanates, on my journey to live in the light.

Hitting rock bottom wakes you up to how reliant you were on others/externals to make you happy. But in the process of rebuilding you begin to trust yourself and start the journey to find your own sense of self, your own sense of purpose, and your own validation. Join me in laying the foundation for a happier and more meaningful life.

I genuinely hope this space inspires more people to realize that healing isn't just a personal journey – it is a shared endeavor, vital for the health of our humanity. There is an undeniable bridge between individual and collective well-being. We are all affected by others, and we all affect one another. I encourage everyone to share their light with others perchance adrift in the darkness.

I'd love to hear from you! Please leave any questions, comments, or insights in the comments section below.

P.S. - post-sanctuary

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