When I graduated from college, my girlfriend, the only love I had ever had, dumped me. I didn’t have a job, so I went back home to look for one. All my friends were spread around the country, so I had no friends, no girlfriend and no job. It was the middle of a recession, so I couldn’t find a job. My parents thought I wasn’t looking, so one night, they kicked me out. Just like that. No time for clothes packing or anything. Out the door and into the woods with the clothes on my back and nothing else.
I spent the night with a friend, and in the morning, I went to a local restaurant, and got a job as a dishwasher. Based on that, my parents let me come back, but I had to be gone soon. (My brother and sister saw all this happen, and said the lesson they learned was not to come back home after college).
I lasted almost a week at the restaurant, and walked out on a Saturday night with dishes piled up higher than I could see on three sides of me. My father was moving his company into a new office, and he hired me to do some carpentry so I could make some money to move to NYC. A couple months later, I left for NYC with $400 in my pocket.
What he did worked. It made me do something. Take action. I did some high-level begging in NYC—asking people to take me in who I had only the most tenuous of connections with. Amazingly, there were all willing to help me. I connected with some people I knew from college, got an apartment, and eventually got a shit job as a canvasser. I got good at it, and things got better after that. Eventually, the wound my lover had inflicted scabbed over, and healed, although with a pretty ugly scar.
Thirty years later, I’m doing pretty well—kids, nice house, good job, wonderful wife, success at overcoming mental illness.
Sometimes I think my father did me a favor, kicking me out. It made me take action. I learned a lot of skills in coping with the world, and I was able to overcome the problems I faced.
However, I swore that I would never turn anyone away in my situation. When my brother graduated from college, he didn’t go home. He came to live with me until he found a place and moved out.
I think the school of hard knocks can be a good school, but I don’t think it’s the best way to learn. Still, sometimes you have no choice in the matter.
I think you’re learning about taking care of yourself. You’ve found friends to help you. You are in pain, deep pain, and yet you are finding a way to take care of yourself. You should be very proud of yourself for being able to do that.
You may not be able to see how you will overcome these problems now, but I feel very confident that you will work it out. It will be a struggle, but you will learn a lot, and it will make you much stronger for the rest of your life. You can do these things even while you are depressed. I mean, it is possible to do it.
Years from now, I think you’ll be looking back, too, and see how much you overcame to get to where you will be then. I don’t know if that helps. My friends taught me to think ‘this too, shall pass’ when horrible things happened.
Humans are very resilient. It may seem horrible now, but it will pass, and you will learn from it, and you will learn that you can take care of yourself. You’ll learn that you think enough of yourself to take care of yourself. No drugs. No hiding from the pain. Just finding a way to endure and overcome it.
Good luck!