The Journey of Healing: Finding Strength After Breaking Free

Letting Go of the Past

I didn’t just walk away. It wasn’t that simple. It took me over a year to finally let go because I didn’t have the strength. I didn’t have the emotional or mental capacity to feel the pain that followed.

And I’m not talking about the pain from just a breakup. I’m talking about the pain of realizing how much of you is gone. The pain of losing so much of yourself that you don’t know if you’ll ever find yourself again. The pain of losing somebody who never actually existed. And the pain of wondering if you’ll ever find the strength to pick yourself up and even start healing.

I understood that walking away would completely destroy me before it ever freed me.

The Struggles of Moving On

I had walked away from other abusive relationships in the past. But I never actually dealt with what they did to me. I never really processed any of it. I just moved on. I suppressed it.

Because that’s what you’re told to do, right? Leave and be "strong." Leave and be grateful it’s over. Leave and just… move on.

No one talks about how emotionally drained you truly are after surviving any type of abuse. You're left too numb to even feel it at first. You start to believe the lie that you should be fine, simply because you left.

So, that’s what I did before. I buried the damage and wore strength and fake smiles. I pushed forward, convincing myself I was okay because everyone else assumed I was. Until I wasn’t.

A Different Kind of Rock Bottom

This last relationship was different. It stripped me of everything—mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. It didn’t let me bypass the pain. There was no suppressing it this time. No quick rebound. No pretending I was fine. No distractions strong enough to carry me out of it.

It was a different kind of rock bottom that absolutely shook me to my core. When I finally walked away, I didn’t feel strong. I felt empty.

I didn’t just feel broken. I felt like I had lost myself completely. I felt like somewhere along the way, my soul died. Because somewhere in that silence, buried beneath rock bottom, was the most broken, unhealed version of me and the pieces of my soul I thought I’d never get back.

Confronting the Pain

It was in that emptiness, during the darkest time in my life, when everything I never even realized I had been running from finally caught up to me. The past abuse, the trauma I never faced, the heartbreak I had stacked on top of heartbreak, the things I told myself didn’t matter, the nights I cried in silence, and the versions of me I lost along the way— all of it surfaced. All at once.

And that’s when I realized I had no choice but to actually feel it. I had no choice but to go through it. I didn’t have the strength to push it back down.

I needed to sit in the pain I had been silently carrying and suppressing for years. I needed to face the truth of how broken I really was on the inside. That was the real beginning of my healing.

Not the day I left. Not the moment I said I was done. Not the day I finally let go. But the day I was left with nothing and chose to feel it all anyway.

Reaching Out for Help

For me, it was realizing I had no one. No one I could lean on. I reached out, hoping for something… anything. But the silence that followed said everything. And that kind of silence stays with you.

But that emptiness didn’t break me. It showed me where to begin. And that part, the loneliness of it all, that’s another story I’ll share soon.

Why I Share My Story

I share my story to be heard—not for attention, not for pity, and never for revenge. But for the ones still living in it. For those who feel broken, stuck, or completely alone. For people who don’t even realize it’s happening to them yet.

And for those who’ve never lived it but need to understand it—because one day, someone they love might. Rooted in peace, purpose, and the reason behind it all.

Until next time,

Lindsay-Michele

www.lindsay-michele.com | @downtherabbithole.lm