Hitting rock bottom

You’ve heard the phrase “rock bottom” before. Maybe you’ve even lived it—a moment so dark, so disorienting that it felt like gravity itself had turned against you.

But what if I told you that rock bottom isn’t a tombstone? It’s a foundation.

For years, I’ve worked with executives, entrepreneurs, and everyday people navigating career implosions, financial ruin, health crises, and personal betrayals.

The ones who thrived weren’t the luckiest or the most talented. They were the ones who learned to treat rock bottom like a trampoline—a surface that bends but doesn’t break, propelling them upward with newfound clarity.

Let’s dissect how you can do the same.

The Illusion of Control (And Why Losing It Is a Gift)

We spend our lives building sandcastles. Careers, relationships, routines—structures that give us the comforting illusion of control.

Then a wave hits. A layoff, a divorce, a diagnosis. The castle crumbles, and suddenly you’re knee-deep in rubble, wondering how everything went wrong so fast.

Here’s the truth no one tells you: The wave isn’t the problem. The sandcastle was.

I once coached a client—let’s call her Mara—who’d built a 20-year career in finance. She followed the rules: climbed the ladder, saved diligently, played it safe. Then, at 48, her firm automated her division. Overnight, her identity evaporated. “I did everything right,” she told me, voice shaking. “Why did it backfire?”

Mara’s mistake wasn’t her effort; it was her framework. She’d conflated stability with success, assuming linear progress was guaranteed. But rock bottom doesn’t care about your plans. It’s a ruthless teacher that says: Your old blueprint is obsolete. Time to redesign.

When life strips away what’s familiar, you’re left with two choices: mourn the loss or mine it for data. What patterns led here? What assumptions need torching? This isn’t about blame—it’s about forensic curiosity.

The Alchemy of Perspective: Reframing “Failure” as Fuel

The human brain is wired to catastrophize pain. We treat setbacks like radioactive waste—something to avoid at all costs. But what if you could reprocess that pain into power?

Research in post-traumatic growth reveals that adversity doesn’t just build resilience; it reveals it.

A study in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology found that 70% of trauma survivors report positive psychological changes, including stronger relationships, renewed purpose, and heightened creativity.

What’s the key? They stopped asking “Why me?” and started asking “What now?”

Take James, a former client who lost his restaurant during the pandemic. For months, he wallowed in bitterness. Then, during a coaching session, he muttered, “I guess I could sell my barbecue sauce online. People used to beg for the recipe.” That sauce is now in 75 stores.

James didn’t “bounce back.” He bounced forward, using his collapse as a compass.

Write down three “gifts” your rock bottom has given you. No, this isn’t some toxic positivity.

For example: Losing a job = time to reassess your values. A breakup = space to rebuild self-trust. Even small insights count.

The Momentum of Micro-Actions (How to Climb When You Can’t See the Top)

After a fall, the instinct is to fixate on the peak: I need my old salary/relationship/status back—now. But urgency breeds paralysis. The way out isn’t a leap; it’s a crawl.

Atomic habits matter here. When neuroscientists study behavior change, they find that small, consistent actions rewire the brain’s pathways faster than grand gestures.

Why? Because they prove to your subconscious that progress is possible, even in microscopic doses.

Another client, Diego, was drowning in debt after a failed startup. Instead of obsessing over six-figure solutions, I had him focus on two daily tasks:

1. Spend 20 minutes learning about AI tools (a field he’d ignored).

2. Message one former colleague every day to rebuild his network.

Within a few months, Diego landed a role at a tech firm—a field he’d never considered pre-crisis.

Identify one “1% action” you can take daily. It could be as simple as:

• Reading 5 pages of a book on reinvention

• Walking 10 minutes to clear your head

• Writing a single sentence about what you want next

Compounding applies to actions, not just money.

The Hidden Advantage of Rock Bottom: Permission to Reboot

I’ll share a little secret with you. Rock bottom is the ultimate career strategist. It forces you to ask questions you’ve avoided for years:

• What do I actually enjoy doing, not just what pays well?

• Who am I without my job title?

• What legacy do I want to leave if today were my last chance?

I’ve seen clients pivot from corporate law to coaching, from medicine to screenplay writing, from academia to app development.

What is the common thread in all these scenarios? Their lowest moment gave them permission to shed others’ expectations.

A 2023 Gallup poll found that 61% of workers are “quiet quitting”—mentally checked out but physically present.

Why? Because they’re waiting for a crisis to give them an “excuse” to change. You don’t need permission. You already have it.

Create a “Never Again” list. What habits, people, or environments will you avoid post-rock bottom? Then, draft a “Hell Yes” list: What values, projects, or relationships deserve your energy now?

The Unlikely Role Models: Lessons from Those Who’ve Reinvented

History’s greatest transformations often begin in ruins. J.K. Rowling drafted Harry Potter while unemployed and depressed. Steve Jobs was fired from Apple before returning to reinvent it. Sara Blakely cut the feet off her pantyhose to create Spanx after facing sexism in sales.

These stories aren’t about luck. They’re about leverage—using desperation as a diagnostic tool. As Blakely once said, “Failure is not the outcome. Failure is not trying.”

Study one reinvention story this week. Reverse engineer their mindset: How did they reframe loss? What small bets did they place? How did they handle naysayers?

The Critical Ingredient Most People Miss: Strategic Selfishness

Rebuilding requires ruthless prioritization. You can’t pour from an empty cup, yet many of my clients struggle with guilt: “I should be helping others, not focusing on myself.”

Here’s the paradox to that thinking. The faster you heal yourself, the sooner you can lift others.

During my own rock bottom—a burnout-induced breakdown in my 30s—I learned to set “recovery boundaries.” I declined family gatherings, outsourced chores, and spent weekends hiking alone. It felt selfish. But that solitude helped me clarify my path to coaching.

Audit your energy drains. What can you delegate, delete, or delay? Protect your recovery time like it’s your job (because right now, it is).

The Liftoff: How to Know When You’re Ready

Reinvention is never a straight line. You’ll have days where old grief resurfaces or new risks terrify you. But progress is not about fearlessness—it’s about moving forward with fear as a passenger, not a driver.

You’re ready when:

• Your past feels like a lesson, not a life sentence.

• Small wins excite you more than big fantasies.

• You can talk about your low point without flinching.

Your Invitation

Rock bottom isn’t a curse. It’s a forced pivot—a chance to build a life that fits who you’ve become, not who you used to be. The sandcastle is gone. Now, you get to design a skyscraper.

So, take that 1% action today. Write the list. Send the email. Make the call. The ground beneath you isn’t shaking–it’s stirring. And what rises from it will astonish you.

Until next time…

If this was helpful, share it with a friend who needs a career boost. And don’t forget to:

• Follow me on LinkedIn and Twitter/X 

• Listen to the My First Layoff podcast here.