When You Have Nothing Left and Still Feel Tested
I almost didn’t write this one, so let me tell you why I did.
Lately I’ve been carrying a feeling I didn’t have good words for. It’s what it’s like to start from nothing, work so hard to build something, lose it right when it should have felt safe, and then still feel like life is asking for more. In this post I’m going to talk about that honestly, what it feels like, and the three small things I’m slowly learning in the middle of it. No tips, no perfect ending. Just me, being real.
Starting from nothing…
You know when you really start from nothing? I don’t mean “not much.” I mean no safety net, no plan B, no one to call at 2am. So you work a little harder than everyone else, you save a little more carefully, and you guard every tiny thing you build like it’s made of glass, because deep down you know you can’t afford for it to break.
And then right when you finally feel like you can breathe, it all falls apart. Not because you were careless, not because you didn’t try. Sometimes life just does that, even when you held on so tight your hands hurt.
Honestly, the loss isn’t even the hardest part. It’s what comes after. You’re already standing in an empty room, and somehow the worries keep walking in anyway, the bills, the what ifs, the maybe I’m going to owe people now. I’ve caught myself saying, ya Tuhan, what else is there to take? I have nothing left, so why does it feel like I’m still paying off a debt I never borrowed?
I know hardship isn’t a receipt, and I know God isn’t sitting there collecting. But when you’re this tired, that’s how it feels, and I’d rather tell you the real feeling than pretend I’m above it.
Three things I’m slowly learning
I’m not an expert at this. I’m figuring it out day by day, with a lot of mistakes. But here’s what’s helping.
- One, showing up with empty hands counts. Some days my faith feels strong and clear. Other days it’s literally just me saying, I don’t get it, but I’m still here. I’m starting to think both days count.
- Two, it’s okay to grieve. It might not have been a lot in someone else’s eyes, but it was everything to me, and it took everything out of me to build. Of course it hurts.
- Three, make the future smaller. I can’t fix the whole year tonight, but I can do the next little thing. Pay what I can, ask for help where I can, rest where I can, and call that enough for today.
If you’re in the middle too
I don’t know how my story ends. I’m not writing from the other side of it, I’m writing from the middle, which maybe isn’t the worst place to write from, because that’s where most of us actually are.
So if you’re in your own middle right now, tired and scared and holding on by something thin, here’s what I want you to remember. You’re not behind and you’re not failing. Showing up with empty hands counts, grieving is allowed, and the next small step is enough. You’re carrying a lot, and you’re still here, and that’s not nothing.
Be gentle with yourself today, okay? I’ll try to do the same.
Psst! If this sounded like you, I’d love to hear from you. You can find me on TikTok at @bieeirl, or if you need something lighter right now, you might like my post on The Monday Morning Blank Screen.