For a long time, I didn’t think I would ever write something like this.
Not because I didn’t want to…
but because for 23 years, I didn’t believe anyone would care.
Those years…
They felt like a lifetime.
I was physically alive, but emotionally buried.
I was living in a basement state of mind.
A season that felt heavy, dark, forgotten, and endless. Even now when I think of those times….. tears flow down my cheeks. It was that painful but I have learned to move on by God’s Grace.
When people talk about “rock bottom,” I don’t think they understand the kind of bottom some of us have seen. Because the truth is… there’s a kind of low where you stop asking for help. You stop hoping. You just exist.
That was my life for over two decades.
**I Felt Forgotten.
I Felt Stuck.
I Felt Invisible.**
There were days I’d wake up and feel like I didn’t matter.
Days when the world seemed to move forward and I stayed frozen in the same place.
And then there were the nights…
Nights when the silence felt so loud it hurt.
Nights when I cried until I had nothing left in me.
Nights when I questioned everything … my life, my purpose, even God.
I didn’t feel strong.
I didn’t feel chosen.
I didn’t feel blessed.
I felt… forgotten.
Not just by people.
But by life itself.
And I thought, “Maybe this is it. Maybe this basement is where my story ends.”
The Pain That No One Saw
People saw my face, but they didn’t know my heart.
They didn’t see the battles going on inside.
And honestly, I didn’t blame them — I learned to hide it well.
I laughed when I needed to.
I acted “okay” when I was anything but.
I pretended because it was easier than explaining.
But God…
He saw everything.
Every tear.
Every prayer.
Every moment I felt small, broken, used, ignored, or taken advantage of.
And even when I thought He was silent —
He was strengthening something inside of me.
**23 Years Is a Long Time…
But It Wasn’t the End of My Story**
There came a moment … not dramatic, not loud, not even clear …
but a moment where something inside me whispered:
“You’re not staying here.”
I didn’t know how.
I didn’t know when.
But I held on to that whisper like my life depended on it.
And slowly…
Quietly…
A new version of me began to rise.
Not overnight.
Not instantly.
But one small step at a time.
I didn’t climb out because I was strong.
I climbed out because God’s grace refused to let me die in a place I was only meant to pass through.
**I Didn’t Just Leave the Basement…
I Outgrew It**
Here’s something I didn’t understand back then:
The place that broke me became the place that built me.
That version of me … the one who cried alone, who felt stuck for years, who felt invisible…
he wasn’t weak…
he was being shaped.
Struggle made me humble.
Silence made me listen.
Loneliness made me compassionate.
Pain made me real.
And surviving made me purposeful.
Today, when I speak… people listen.
When I write… people feel it.
When I help someone… they know it comes from a genuine place.
Because you can’t fake this kind of heart.
You can’t manufacture this kind of empathy.
You can’t teach this kind of strength.
You earn it through the fire, through the tears, through the years you thought were wasted.
What I Want You To Know
If you’re reading this right now and you feel stuck…
If you feel like your life is not moving…
If you feel forgotten, invisible, or trapped in your own “basement”…
Listen to me:
**Your story isn’t over.
Your timing isn’t messed up.
Your future isn’t canceled.
And you are not stuck forever.**
I’m living proof.
You may not see the way out today.
You may not feel strong enough yet.
You may not understand why you’re going through this season…
But just because you’re in a dark place doesn’t mean God left you there.
Sometimes He allows places like that to reveal who you truly are —
and who you’re capable of becoming.
Final Words: Your Rise Is Coming
I wasted years thinking my life was over.
But those years are now the reason I can speak life into others.
Your pain has a purpose.
Your struggle has a meaning.
Your survival has power.
And one day … sooner than you think …
you’re going to look back and say:
“That place was meant to break me… but it built me instead.”
You’re not forgotten.
You’re not stuck.
You’re not done.
Your rise is coming.
And when it does, the world will finally see the strength that those years tried so hard to bury.
A Glimpse From My Life.
Sincerely,
Pete
