She was the most feared female fighter in the world—a powerhouse. She regularly dismissed opponents by knockout in mere seconds. She was undefeated in her UFC career. Then in November, Ronda Rousey ran into Holly Holm, and the result was as unlikely as Buster Douglas’ knock out of Mike Tyson in 1990.
In an interview with Ellen DeGeneres earlier this week, Rousey shared her feelings about the loss:
“Honestly, my thought, I was in the medical room, and I was down in the corner, I was sitting in the corner, and I was like, ‘What am I anymore if I’m not this?’ And I was literally sitting there and thinking about killing myself at that exact second. And I’m like, ‘I’m nothing. What do I do anymore?’”
Suicide. Nothing. No reason to live. Those aren’t the feelings of a lost match. They’re the feelings of a lost purpose for existence.
. . .
Most of us cannot imagine the singular focus and determination Rousey had to become the best. But we understand the concept. In fact, we understand too well. Rousey was simply honest enough to say out loud something we teeter on the brink of far too often.
It’s shocking when someone else’s words reveal our sins or temptations, and we find it much easier to deny or judge than to examine and admit. But we are idolaters. We hang our hopes on hooks that can’t bear the weight, and then feel despair when they fall and shatter.
. . .
Most of us don’t reach the point of considering suicide. We don’t wonder why we’re even here or what we have to live for. If we have Christ, we know the answer to that, but it doesn’t stop us from trying to add to Christ, to improve on Him. We know that life is worth living, but we still try to replace bits of Christ’s hope with other things here and there.
. . .