Life has a way of testing us in unimaginable ways, often leaving us feeling broken, lost, and questioning the very point of it all. Whether you’re fighting to stay sober, wrestling with the shadows of abuse, or trying to make sense of grief that refuses to ease, these battles can feel insurmountable.
If you’re here, feeling the weight of it all, I want you to know two things: You’re not alone, and you are stronger than you realize.
I want to start by saying that these topics—relapse, abuse, grief—aren’t just abstract ideas for me. They’re deeply personal. They’re the battles I’ve fought and continue to face.
The words I’ve written here came from moments when I was in the thick of it, grappling with the darkness and searching for even the smallest thread of light. I wrote most of them to convince myself, because there was no one else to lean on during those times. If these words resonate with you, I hope they remind you that the higher power that carried me through is alive in you, too. That same strength flows through you, and you carry it, always, within your soul.
The Weight of Relapse: “Why Bother?”
Relapse doesn’t always look like picking up a drink or drug. Sometimes, it starts as a thought—a whisper in the back of your mind saying, “What’s the point? When life feels unbearable, when peace feels so far away, it’s tempting to fall back into old patterns. After all, if the world feels meaningless, why not numb the pain?”
The answer lies in the same strength that got you sober in the first place. That strength didn’t come from ease or convenience—it came from something deeper. Something higher. It came from love: love for yourself, for the people who need you, and for the life you deserve, even when it feels distant.
The fact that you’re here, even debating whether to keep going, is proof of your resilience. You’ve fought too hard to come this far, and the part of you that made it through the darkness before still exists. That strength, even if it feels buried, will carry you through again.
Sobriety isn’t about erasing the pain or achieving perfection. Those are the lies the energies (spirits) of the drink or the drug whisper to weaken your resolve and strip you of choice. Sobriety is about creating space for something better—even if it’s just a sliver of hope, even if it’s only for today. You don’t have to solve everything at once. Just take the next breath, the next step. And when relapse feels like the only option, remind yourself of this: you are more than your struggle. You are more than this moment.
Facing the Shadows of Abuse: Reclaiming Your Power
Abuse leaves scars that are often invisible but deeply felt. It steals your sense of safety, your trust in yourself, and your belief in your worth. Even after you walk away from your abuser, their voice can linger, sowing seeds of doubt and shame.
Here’s the truth: You are allowed to take back what was stolen from you. Your voice, your creativity, your way of processing the world—those are yours. Healing isn’t about pretending it didn’t happen. It’s about reclaiming your power, step by step.
It’s important to remember this: People who abuse others, who manipulate and control, are not strong. Their actions come from weakness—mental, emotional, and spiritual. True strength isn’t in control or dominance. It’s in healing, love, and forgiveness. And those are the strengths you carry.
The strength it takes to survive, to rebuild, and to reclaim your peace—that’s real power. That’s yours. Abuse might have shaped parts of your story, but it doesn’t get to define your ending. You are the strength that chose to leave, the courage that continues to fight, and the resilience that refuses to let them win.
The Endless Wrestling Match with Grief
Grief is relentless. It doesn’t follow a timeline or fit into neat stages. It comes in waves, sometimes pulling you under when you least expect it. And when you’ve lost not just people you love, but also versions of yourself—your innocence, your trust, your belief in the world—it can feel like too much to bear.
There’s no easy answer for grief. It can’t be simplified, and it can’t be organized. It doesn’t go away, and it doesn’t always make sense. But grief, as painful as it is, also reflects love. The deeper the pain, the greater the love that preceded it. While this doesn’t erase the loss or make it easier, it can remind you of the beauty that still exists. The love you carry—for the people you’ve lost and for the version of yourself you’re mourning—is still alive, and it can guide you, even in the darkest moments.
For some of us, grief brings an unwelcome companion: survivor guilt. It whispers questions that have no answers—Why them? Why not me?—and fuels anger that feels impossible to escape: Not only did they lose their life, but I lost them… and now I’m left to cope alone. Survivor guilt turns the weight of loss into a burden of blame. It threatens to transform grief into guilt so heavy it pulls us away from ourselves, from others, and from the love that connects us.
Survivor guilt casts doubt on our worth, telling us that our continued existence is unjustified or meaningless. If we let it, it can draw us into a void of nothingness, where the pain feels endless and we feel unworthy of the life we still have. But this guilt is not truth—it is the shadow of grief, trying to make sense of the senseless. You are not to blame for their death, for your survival, or for the fact that life has carried you forward. Your life is not a mistake. The love you carry honors what was lost, and by choosing to live—not perfectly, but fully—you transform that love into something lasting and real.
It’s okay to feel the full weight of grief—the anger, the sadness, the questions without answers. It’s okay to feel like the world is unfair, like you’re tired of fighting. But your grief is not the end of your story. You’ve survived this far, and there is still hope for healing, even if it looks different than you imagined.
Why Love is the Strength We Need
At Twin Tree Project, we believe that what the world needs now—and what God requires of us—is love. Love is the highest vibrational energy, the force that fuels everything good. It’s the strength that helped you get sober, walk away from your abuser, and face the unrelenting waves of grief. Love is what gives us rest when we’re exhausted, hope when we’re hopeless, and connection when we feel most alone. It’s the oxygen to our souls.
The Biblical Foundation of Love’s Strength
Scripture teaches us that love is not just an emotion but a divine force that reflects the very nature of God. In 1 Corinthians 13:4–7, Paul writes:
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
This passage reminds us that love is a choice, an action, and a commitment to something greater than ourselves. It is both grounding and transcendent, offering stability when everything else feels chaotic. When you are tired, when you are hurting, and when you are questioning your worth, let this scripture remind you: Love protects. Love perseveres. And you are held by that same divine love, even in your hardest moments.
1 John 4:18 further reinforces this:
There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment.
When we align ourselves with love, we begin to release the fear that isolates us—from ourselves, from others, and from God. Love doesn’t just heal—it empowers.
Philosophical Insights on Love’s Power
Philosopher Søren Kierkegaard described love as the ultimate expression of human freedom. In Works of Love, he wrote:
To love is to be selfless, to give oneself completely, to become vulnerable.
This vulnerability is not weakness—it is strength. To love, in any form, requires us to open ourselves to the possibility of pain while still choosing to embrace connection. It is a testament to our resilience, our capacity to heal, and our ability to find meaning beyond suffering.
Similarly, Victor Frankl, a Holocaust survivor and psychologist, emphasized the redemptive power of love in Man’s Search for Meaning. Reflecting on his experiences in the concentration camps, he wrote:
The salvation of man is through love and in love. I understood how a man who has nothing left in this world still may know bliss, be it only for a brief moment, in the contemplation of his beloved.
Frankl’s insight reminds us that love is not dependent on circumstances—it is a choice, a perspective, and a source of strength that no external force can take away.
Psychological Perspectives on Love as Strength
From a psychological standpoint, love has profound effects on our well-being. Psychologist and researcher Barbara Fredrickson introduced the Broaden-and-Build Theory of Positive Emotions, which highlights how love expands our capacity to think, act, and connect.
Love generates resilience. It builds bonds that carry us through the hardest of times and creates a sense of safety within us. (Barbara Fredrickson)
This aligns with what we know intuitively: love, in all its forms—romantic, familial, platonic, and spiritual—gives us the courage to face life’s challenges.
In a practical sense, love rewires our brains. Acts of love, whether given or received, activate the brain’s reward centers, releasing oxytocin and promoting trust, calm, and healing. In contrast to the isolation and fear that fuel addiction, abuse, and grief, love becomes the antidote, a reminder that we are connected to something greater than ourselves.
Love in the Face of Hatred
And yet, love isn’t always easy. If we, who know and feel the truth of something higher, still struggle with these battles, imagine how much those who live in hatred and abuse must suffer. People who harm others—whether through manipulation, violence, or control—are spiritually and emotionally bankrupt. Their actions come from weakness, not power.
Jesus spoke directly to this reality in Matthew 5:44, commanding us:
Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.
This is perhaps the hardest calling of all. But love, in this context, isn’t about excusing their behavior or allowing harm. It’s about refusing to let hatred take root in our hearts. When we choose love over resentment, we break cycles of pain and assert the strength that comes from God’s truth.
True strength lies in choosing love—not just in moments of ease but in the depths of struggle. Love is what allows us to heal from the wounds of our past, what compels us to forgive ourselves and others, and what gives us the courage to hope for a better future. It’s the same strength that carried you through your darkest moments and the same strength that lives within you now.
Hold onto love—love for yourself, for the people you’ve lost, for the life you’re still creating. As Paul reminds us in 1 Corinthians 13:13:
And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love.
Love is the greatest strength there is, and it’s yours to carry even in times of great upheaval and change. But healing only comes when we begin giving that love to ourselves. It’s in the quiet moments of self-compassion, the small steps toward peace, and the decision to believe that we are worthy of the love we so freely give to others. By loving yourself, you honor the divine love that created you, and you set the foundation for a life rooted in hope and healing.
When It Feels Like Too Much
It’s okay to hate this timeline. Even the most enlightened teachers and Ascended Masters faced moments of frustration and anger. Jesus, for example, turned over the tables in the temple when confronted with injustice, a profound reminder that even divine love doesn’t demand passivity in the face of wrongdoing.
It’s okay to feel like you don’t belong in this world or that you’re tired of fighting. But don’t let those feelings convince you that you don’t matter. You do. Your life matters, your love matters, and your strength matters—even if you can’t feel it right now.
If you’re in a space or energy of struggle, remember: you don’t have to fix everything today. You don’t have to silence the doubts or find perfect peace. Just take one small step. Write your thoughts down. Reach out to someone who understands and share your heart (our inbox is always open, by the way). Breathe. And most importantly, love yourself enough to keep going, even when it feels impossible. The world needs people like you—people who fight, who love, and who refuse to give up.
You Are NOT Alone
These battles—against relapse, abuse, injustice and grief—are some of the hardest we face. But you are not alone. The love and strength that carried you this far are still within you, waiting to guide you forward. If you can’t feel them now, let this be your reminder: You’ve made it this far. You’re still here. That is not nothing. That is everything.
Hold onto love—love for yourself, for the people you’ve lost, for the life you’re still creating. It’s the greatest strength there is, and it’s yours.
We believe in you.
The Twin Tree Project 