How To Make It Through The Void
Filling the emptiness at the end of your healing journey
There was a time when I thought my healing was finally complete.
I felt at peace with myself. The few memories from my childhood that still surfaced were not painful anymore. I kept a calm mind and didn't get triggered anymore.
Life was good. But somehow life also felt empty.
This time it was a different emptiness. It didn't feel like something was missing inside of me. Instead, it was as if I were standing in an endless white room with no idea where to go.
The stage I was in is also known as the void—the empty space many pass through after their healing.
What the void is about
Childhood trauma often stays buried for decades. I discovered my role as the family scapegoat about 5 years ago. That was after many years of asking myself what was going wrong in my life and why painful patterns kept repeating over and over again.
It all seemed to come back to me. Like so many scapegoats, I learned to walk on eggshells, became a people-pleaser, and believed I had no value. I radiated this into the world. And of course, some people took advantage of it.
The healing journey is about uncovering the patterns that once helped survive in a dysfunctional family system. You allow painful memories and emotions to rise again, and you let yourself feel them and go through the pain. This is how you process your trauma and finally detach from it.
Letting go means releasing large parts of a given identity you never chose. The trauma shaped you. You adapted to your environment. Later, you used those childhood survival strategies as general guidelines for your life.
That's why you experience the same sh*t again and again. Toxic environments felt familiar. You knew how to survive in them. Yes, they hurt, but they were predictable. And that predictability gave you the illusion of control.
Healing and letting go of your past is like a big clean-up. You throw all the rubbish you carried for years. And with it goes the fragile sense of control you once held onto. Suddenly, you find yourself standing in an empty room, unsure where to go.
Welcome to the void…
Most of my life, I defined myself through my achievements and skills. Beyond that, I had no idea what my value as a human being was, or who I was deep down inside.
Chasing success became a problem during my healing. The moments of glory and feelings of worth never lasted. It also became clear that if I kept going like that, I would eventually burn out—healing itself was exhausting.
Most of the things I used for orientation in my life were tied to my role as the family scapegoat. Achievements were one part of it; sacrificing and pleasing my family, making myself smaller than anybody around me, were the others.
After I felt that healing was complete, all those components lost their meaning.
So, what to do with my life?
I knew that forcing my way through the emptiness wouldn't work. Burying myself in books and searching for answers wasn't an option either—I felt like I'd already read every self-help book there is.
I tried to make plans, but my head felt so empty. And to make plans, I needed direction. And that was exactly the problem.
When you're standing in an endless white room, you don't know where to go. Everything looks the same.
So why not choose any direction and see what life will bring?
Although this was a rational thought, it felt pointless—an act out of sheer frustration.
I craved a direction…