Estrangement and the Pit of Despair: Climbing Out One Step at a Time
- Crystal McDaniel
- Jul 19
- 3 min read
There are days when estrangement feels like freefalling into a deep, dark hole—a place I didn’t choose, but one I suddenly find myself in. No warning. No rope. Just a deafening silence and a pain so loud it echoes off the walls of my soul.
This is the Pit of Despair.
And I would love to say, “I didn’t choose the pit I am in.”
But when I dig for the truth, I realize something hard and humbling: relationships are a two-way street. I didn’t fall into this alone. I brought my own baggage, mistakes, and blind spots to the relationship—just as the other person did.
A few years ago, I did a Bible study written by beloved Bible teacher Beth Moore. In it, she explored three kinds of biblical pits that people can find themselves in. It was eye-opening, and it gave me language to better understand the pain I was experiencing.
1. We Jump Into the Pit
Sometimes we’re the cause of our own circumstances.Take finances, for example—if we refuse to set a budget, spend carelessly, and choose short-term pleasure over long-term security, we end up in a financial pit of our own making. That pit wasn’t a surprise; it was a direct result of our choices. We jumped in.
2. We Slide Into the Pit
Other times, we slowly drift. We stay oblivious to the warning signs. We avoid hard conversations. We ignore the subtle shifts. The ground beneath us begins to crumble and soften, and before we even realize it, we’re sliding straight into a pit.In many cases, I believe estrangement is like this.It’s not sudden. It builds. It sneaks up in silence, miscommunication, unmet needs, or emotional avoidance until the distance becomes too wide to bridge. We didn’t mean to end up here—but here we are.
3. We’re Pushed Into the Pit
And then there are the pits that are cruel and completely undeserved. Abuse. Assault. Addiction. Neglect. Sudden loss. Trauma. The kinds of pain that someone else inflicts on us, without our permission.In the context of estrangement, I see this reflected in situations of severe abuse—when a child has to walk away to protect themselves from ongoing harm.To that person: I honor your bravery. You didn’t choose this pit. You were pushed. And your healing matters too.
I want to pause here and say: I hold space for disagreement.
You may view your estrangement differently than I view mine. And that’s okay. No two journeys look the same.
But regardless of how we got here—whether we jumped, slid, or were pushed—we still have to choose what happens next.
For me, the climb began with acknowledgment.I had to name it: I am estranged from someone I love. That alone felt like a punch to the chest. It shattered the illusion I was holding onto. But in speaking it out loud, I stopped pretending—and eventually, healing began.
Then came grieving without shame.Estrangement is a form of loss. It deserves mourning. So I grieved the relationship, the shared memories, the unspoken dreams. I grieved birthdays missed, texts never returned, conversations that never happened. I cried. I journaled. I prayed. And eventually, healing began.
Then I reached the hardest part: reclaiming my identity.I had poured so much of myself into the roles I played: mother, fixer, protector. But I forgot I had value outside of those labels. Slowly, I began rediscovering who I was. I reconnected with my faith, my passions, and my purpose.I reminded myself that God never gave up on me, and I didn’t have to give up on myself either. And eventually, healing began.
This pit didn’t become a garden overnight. But the soil down here is surprisingly rich.And though I never wanted to be here, I’m learning to plant new things—resilience, empathy, grace, boundaries, truth. One day at a time.
Some days I climb with strength. Other days I barely move. But I’m still climbing.
If you’re here with me—deep in the pit of estrangement—I want you to know:You are not alone.This place is not your forever.There is a way out.
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