Life is very much like a rip-tide, isn't it? You just let it take you out toward your destruction until it ultimately loses interest in you, at which point you can use what strength you have left to try to ride normal waves back to the gentle sands of the beach. Sometimes, you don't have it left in you and you never make it back. Sometimes, the life you thought was yours when the current took you out has moved on. But, sometimes, your life is still there for you, waiting. And if you're very, very lucky, you still have enough gas in your tank to love that life back, so you lay down on the warm sand and feel that salt and hear those kids playing and gulls crying and you have a churro and a Coke.
This is not based on a true story.