Rock Bottom.

Don’t worry, you'll know it when you get there.  You are out of tears and your skin remains scaly and worn.  The empty box of doughnuts lies beside you, your laptop’s light reflecting on your face.  You haven’t moved, for hours - with the exception of your thumb of course.  Scrolling.  Scrolling and scrolling and scrolling.  Trying to suck up any dopamine that you can, siphoning it from the happy lives of others, the carefree lives of others.

Your body feels weak, lethargic, empty.  Your head hurts.  It’s almost as if you can taste the nihilism.  Despair clogs your nostrils.  Memories soak your dreams.

You avert your eyes from the reflection in the mirror.

Broken.

Broken, but not defeated.

Not defeated.

The sun still glints, your lungs still breathe.  Music still plays.  The pillow is still there underneath your head.

And that cliche, ah yes.  That cliche.  The only way is up.

The only way forward is to rebuild yourself.  To heal what is broken.  To look for the light.

Because the beautiful part of that place called rock bottom is exactly that, there’s nowhere else to go.