When Everything Falls Apart, Something Unexplainable Happens
You ever notice how the realest parts of your story don’t come wrapped in success?
They show up in moments that don’t photograph well.
Like lying on the floor, scrolling through job listings you’re not even qualified for.
Or sitting in your car outside a gas station, doing the math in your head like,
“Okay, if I skip groceries, maybe I can stretch this $8 ‘til Friday.”
They show up when your body’s moving, but your soul feels…numb.
You’re tired — but not the kind sleep fixes.
You ever hit that point?
Where brushing your teeth feels like an achievement?
Where the thought of starting over again makes your stomach twist?
Yeah. That part. That’s the part people skip when they post the “before and after.”
But here’s the truth:
That’s exactly when the shift starts to brew.
Not loud. Not flashy. Just… quietly.
Almost like your brain gets bored of being hopeless and starts looking for any scrap of light.
You start thinking things like:
“What if I tried one more time?”
“What if I just showed up anyway?”
“What if this isn’t the end, but the part where it starts to flip?”
Your mind — it plays tricks on you when you’re low.
Some days it tells you you’re worthless. Others, it whispers maybe you’re a late bloomer.
You bounce between “I’m tired of this sht”* and “What if this is the making of me?”
And both feel true in the same breath. It’s weird. Confusing. Kind of beautiful.
You pace.
You overthink.
You cry while folding laundry.
You scroll past everyone who seems ahead and feel like a glitch in the system.
Then you catch yourself imagining something again — maybe a version of you who made it out.
That’s not weakness. That’s survival.
That flicker you feel in the darkness?
That’s the beginning of your comeback.
And no, it doesn’t arrive with clarity.
It comes with contradiction — the part of you that’s completely broken and the part of you that still believes in magic.
Zero Isn’t Nothing — It’s the Beginning Nobody Talks About
Here’s the part they never post on Instagram:
The miracle doesn’t come when you’re “ready.”
It comes when you’re raw.
Shaky.
Ugly crying in your car at midnight.
When you’re scraping quarters for gas and deciding if eating is negotiable this week.
That’s when the good stuff begins — the real momentum.
Why?
Because nothing numbs you anymore. Your comfort is gone. Your pride? That left weeks ago.
You stop asking for permission.
You stop asking at all.
You start doing.
With zero.
You do it broke.
You do it bone-tired.
You do it while people look at you like you’re delusional. And maybe you are — but thank God for that.
This Fire Can’t Be Fabricate
Motivation isn’t always candles and coffee shops.
Sometimes it’s rage.
Sometimes it’s grief.
Sometimes it’s panic because the rent is late again and your mom stopped answering your calls.
But weirdly? That pain becomes potential. That’s the fuel.
It has to be, because what’s the alternative?
Crumbling?
Nah. We’ve already done that.
There’s this quiet beast that wakes up when you’re down bad. And it’s not elegant. It’s not poetic.
But it moves you.
You suddenly become the kind of person who posts their work with 4 likes and keeps going.
You start saying yes to things you would’ve overthought last year.
You stop wasting time trying to feel “ready.”
You just… show up.
Again. And again. And again.
Let’s Be Real: Nobody Gets Out Clean
Everyone wants the glow-up, but no one wants the grit-up.
Doechii?
Homeless. Fired. Overlooked.
Now she’s building her world her way.
But don’t skip the part where she had to sing through silence — when nobody was clapping, nobody was watching, nobody was texting “proud of you.”
That silence? It’s sacred. It’s the space where your future self is built.
And she’s not alone.
Tyler Perry wrote scripts from his car.
J.K. Rowling handed her first manuscript over like it was a lost cause.
Steve Harvey? Slept in hotels and prayed through humiliation.
Even Kendrick — back when he was K.Dot — was just another kid from Compton stacking rhyme schemes on hope.
Same story. Different stage.
So What Now? You Move. That’s What.
This part’s for you.
The reader who’s tired. Who’s quietly drowning in doubt.
Who’s still logging into Instagram with envy and a half-smile, pretending they’re “okay.”
You don’t need to fake it anymore.
You’re at zero? Good.
Now you can stop trying to protect the fake life you thought you needed.
Start from here — raw, shaky, honest.
And move.
Build ugly.
Create tired.
Write scared.
Sing broke.
Show up with your whole messy heart and no damn plan.
Because this version of you — the one with nothing but fire left — that’s the most dangerous, most real version there is.
Wanna Go Deeper? (Because surface stuff won’t save you here.)
If this cracked something in you — if your throat’s tight and your eyes are hot right now (yeah, I know that feeling) — then don’t scroll past it.
Here’s where to start:
- Journal the hell out of it. Write what hurts. Write what’s still burning inside. Start with this question:
“What do I still have in me, even though everything else is gone?”
You’d be shocked how that answer shifts each day.
If you want structure (or a page that doesn’t judge), grab Ascent Co.’s “One Day at a Time 2025” journal. It’s not magic — but it holds you accountable to your magic. - Pick one thing. Just one.
Post. Paint. Build. Email. Sell. Sing. Dance in your kitchen.
For 30 days straight. Even when it sucks. Especially then. - Tell your zero story — before the breakthrough.
Share it now. Not later when you’re polished and successful and verified.
Now, while you’re cracked open and in it. That’s the version people need. - Remind yourself:
You don’t need clarity. You need courage.
You don’t need applause. You need action.
And no — you don’t need permission. You never did.
Final Thing (Before You Go Back to Scrolling)
There’s something quietly divine about the in-between — the dark space between who you were and who you’re becoming.
Sit there. Scream there. Write there. Build there.
And for the love of all things raw and real: don’t give up now.
You are not done.
You’re just beginning from a place most people are too afraid to even visit.
And that? That makes you unstoppable.
