rock bottom

Everyone has an edge, there's too much. There is this thing or this place or something that will be the last straw for them. Some will say it's an illusion, you're in the situation you're in and everything will push you to the edge, because you're going to look for it. And maybe they're right, or maybe not. But I want a moment to think about the same end, whether it's cooked from the inside or squeezed from the outside, or whether it's a combination. I'm fascinated by this end.
It's hard for me to explain exactly why, why the bottom, the bottom, this bit too much, will make me captive. Fascinated by the idea and the story behind it. I think maybe I've always played with that end, always stumbling on a tightrope, or maybe there. Because when your life becomes a whirlpool of chaos and pain that is incomprehensible and disproportionate - you have to take a step back from life, you find yourself defining yourself in your depression or your disorders. Because who am I without them?
I'll tell you a secret, I want to find out who I can be.
But always when I look into an unknown future on the horizon and an unknown figure in the mirror, I find myself looking back, or rather, down at this abyss beneath my feet. Always there, calling me to fall, threatening to devour me.

Suddenly a thought comes to me, that perhaps the same way to a horizon that seems right, is not true for everyone. That perhaps I should first allow myself to fall, to let the abyss consume me, perhaps then, in despair, in the total concession. Will I find a way to be reborn?